


something old

by hanabi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Yeah Baby, fake dating?!?!?!?!, name some more romcom tropes and i'll put them in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-03-03 10:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13339308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanabi/pseuds/hanabi
Summary: ann asks ryuji to come as her plus one to a colleague's wedding. rom com shenanigans ensue.





	1. so this is happening

**Author's Note:**

> i was feeling sad so i decided to cheer myself up with some rom com trash!
> 
> takes place about five years after the game? they're like 21-ish and in that sweet confusing young adulthood spot where they're not really sure what they're doing with their lives but they're not so far into their twenties that it's just depressing lmao anyway some further soul searching will probably ensue but in the meantime strap yourselves in for some fake dating okay xoxo

“...Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean, why do you have to go to her wedding in the first place? I thought you hated Mika.” Ryuji sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes as he squinted at the clock. Why did she always call him so early in the morning whenever she wanted something?

“First of all,” Ann enumerated plainly, “I don’t hate Mika, Mika hates me.”

“Okay,” he snorted, as though that was somehow supposed to make it better. Why someone would invite a person they hated to their own wedding was beyond him. Why someone would want to go to the wedding of someone who hated them, even more. Well, unless there was free food and booze to be had. Then he could probably find the motivation. But still, it’d suck, and he’d probably make it clear to everyone around him that it sucked. But this was probably why he didn't get invited to too many events.

“And anyway,” Ann continued, “that was years ago. I’m completely over it now.”

“But she still hates you,” Ryuji added for clarification, scratching his head sleepily. None of this was making any sense to him. 

“Yeah, because she’s an asshole.”

“Okay,” he repeated, the laugh escaping him before he saw it coming. He’d never understood how easily she’d been able to forgive Mika without ever receiving so much as an apology. Even if Ann had the wisdom beyond her teenage years to see beyond her actions because of her motivations, that was never Ryuji’s style. (Though to be fair, Ryuji’s style almost got them kicked out of school or even arrested more times than he could count.) And even if she was justified in her resentment, she still tried to sabotage Ann’s career to advance her own and couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be sorry about it. It _had_ been years, but he clenched his teeth in frustration about it even now. It was probably a good thing Akira was there when it happened, and not him. If it’d been him he’d probably still be serving out some kind of jail sentence for assault about it.

“I still don’t understand why this means you have to go to her wedding, though,” he pressed, brows furrowed as he hunched his shoulders. “I mean, who’d wanna marry her anyway? Sounds fake if you ask me. Could be another trap.”

He could practically hear her respond with an eyeroll over the phone. “If it’s another trap, then either my boss is out to get me, or he’s gonna be majorly pissed off at her when he figures it out, Ryuji. All the models and everyone from the agency were invited, so I had to be too. For the appearances, you know. But she’s awful to everyone. Except for the bosses obviously.”

“Okay…” he repeated, still skeptical. “Why do you want me to come, though? I thought it was for the appearances.”

“Well yeah, I can’t show up alone to the wedding of someone who hates me, Ryuji. That’s like, petty drama lesson number one.”

“Yeah but…” he continued, somewhat amazed that she wasn’t following him where he was going. “If it’s for the appearances, why don’t you take someone prettier, or like… better at not being a total asshole all the time. Like Akira or Yusuke or somebody.”

Ann paused, and Ryuji held in a breath in anticipation of what was going to come next. _I asked them and they’re not free and you’re my last resort so you better come_. Or, _oh god, you didn’t hear, did you Ryuji? They’re both dead, yeah, freak accident. I know, it’s crazy. I was surprised too. So anyway you have to come_. Or, _surprise this was all an elaborate joke you big ugly dipshit you think I really want to be seen with you in front of all my work friends and colleagues??? lololol get real buddy._ Okay, the last one didn’t really sound like her, but that didn’t mean he was going to discount the possibility of the first two.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it.” Ryuji let his breath escape, not really sure how the results sat with him, in his stomach or in… anywhere else, really. “I guess I thought it’d be fun to go with you. It’s at Disney Sea, by the way.” At the short laugh that Ryuji left out--one she had no reason to recognize as surprised relief at the thing she’d said just _before_ Disney Sea--she continued, “I know, super extra, right.”

Ryuji hummed in agreement. A wedding at a theme park… it was extra. And no wonder Ann had thought of him.

“Anyway you know if I asked Yusuke to an event filled with models he’ll just try to get them all to take their clothes off for him.” Ryuji chuckled his agreement, muttering “yeah, true” into the receiver. All at once, a series of disastrous scenarios flashed before his eyes, most of which ended with Yusuke spending the night in prison, insisting that it was all some kind of ridiculous misunderstanding. When the quiet laughter died down, though, a kind of silence hung on the line, somehow tangible between them despite their physical separation. “So…” Ann followed up after a second that seemed to stretch out a lifetime. “You’ll come?”

Ryuji felt a sort of movement in his chest that he declined to name at the hopefulness in her voice. Though it had been years since they were forced into retirement, the Phantom Thieves still saw each other fairly regularly, or at least, as regularly as seven young adults, half of whom were holding down multiple part time jobs in one of the world’s most populated cities could manage to see each other. Akira had moved back right after graduation, slipping seamlessly back into the attic in Leblanc as though he had never left. He was helping Sojiro around the shop now, where they still got together at least once or twice a month for curry dinners. The group chat was still popping, though it was less of a constant buzz in his pocket. But it had been a while since he and Ann had hung out, just the two of them. After graduating, she continued modeling with her agency while taking some business classes at a local college, while Ryuji, now finally able to contribute something for all the years his mom spent taking care of him, was holding down two part time jobs, one as a kids’ soccer coach, and another at a local gym. He was thinking about going back to school at some point, maybe to train as a physical therapist, but the more time he spent working with kids, the more he thought... anyway. Between their two schedules, and not being in school together anymore, it was hard to find times to just… be in each other’s presence like they used to. They still talked all the time, but… if he was being honest about it, he did feel like a little something was missing.

“Ryuji?” Ann’s hesitant voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“A--sorry,” he laughed, embarrassed that he’d gotten so caught up in his brooding. “Yeah, of course. Of course I’ll come. Whatever you want. Just gotta request the time off.”

“Really?” He could swear he heard some relief in her voice, and there it was, the movement in his chest again. “Okay, great! So, uh, the wedding’s on the 23rd, but it’s at night and a pain and a half to get to so can you maybe try for those two days? The company will pay for the hotel. And I thought maybe we could go down early in the day to hang out in the park a little? Since we’re going all the way over there and all.”

Ryuji’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. “You’ve really thought this out, huh?”

“I mean… I just thought it’d be fun, if we’re going out of town anyway… might as well make the most of it, right? We never get time off anyway. I feel like... I never get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji smiled, as though she’d been reading his mind. “Yeah, I feel the same way. Okay, fuck it. Let’s do it. Disney Sea. Why not.”

“Okay! Okay, great. I’ll text you the details.” Ryuji could have sworn he heard her grinning through the phone, so much so that he could practically picture it. “Shit… okay I gotta go or I’ll be late for work but I’ll talk to you later okay? Okay. Bye!”

“Bye,” Ryuji said, unsure exactly of what had really just happened. All he knew was that he was smiling, his face felt warm, and his cheeks kind of hurt a little. He pulled his phone belatedly away from his ear, staring mystified at the end call screen. _Well, okay,_ he thought to himself. _So… this is happening_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ryuji.................


	2. smize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE IT'S HARU AND MAKOTO AND THEY'RE IN LOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've changed my mind! it's actually more like seven years after the game, so ann & co. are 23 and haru & co. are 24. for completely arbitrary and personal reasons because ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“My! How lovely that sounds!”

Haru clasped her hands together, standing on the sideline of Ann’s photoshoot. It had been just under a week since she had signed the forms with Ann’s agency to assist both with publicizing her new café, and with managing some lingering public relations issues that Okumura Foods was still struggling to shake.

One of her conditions upon entering the agreement was that Ann would be given exclusive rights to the café account as its official model--a move that surprised Ann, but that she accepted with gratitude and joy. It was her favorite type of job, too, all loose braids and baggy sweaters and gigantic fashion glasses to accompany whatever sophisticated reading choices the coordinators handed her. The concept that Haru specifically requested was to present the café as a place where your heart could be at ease, where you could take refuge from the outside world.

“And so romantic! Oh, you and Ryuji will have a wonderful time. You must take lots of pictures.”

Haru’s adulations shook Ann from her reverie, taking a moment out of her posing to look her friend in the face. “Wait, romantic? Hold on--no--we’re just going as friends.”

“Mmhmm,” Haru returned, smiling slyly back at Ann. “Just friends who go on perfect dream dates together culminating in a literal fairy tale wedding!”

“Not  _ our _ wedding,” Ann reminded her, frowning as she rearranged the beautiful handthrown mug in front of her. On it was a black cat with white paws, a white nose, and a white tipped tail painted in various sleeping positions--Ann wondered absently if Haru had made it herself.

“Ann, those kinds of details aren’t important! I expect a full report after you’re back.”

Ann paused to throw a scowl over in the direction of her senior (who responded with yet another gleeful smile) before returning her attention to the shoot--she was a pro, after all.

“Well why not! He’s handsome,” (Ann’s nose crinkled), “you two have this amazing chemistry, you get each other, you’ve been through so much together, you’ve known each other forever--ooh! Just think, middle school classmates destined to be sweethearts! How wonderful!” Haru giggled, somehow managing effervescent and mischievous at the same time. Ann sighed to herself while trying to unlock her best Tyra smize. She’d known for some years now that her senior had a sadistic streak, but she was rarely ever the object of its attentions. 

Speaking honestly, though, she did feel comforted by Haru’s presence at the shoot. She knew that her senior wouldn’t have agreed to go ahead with opening the café at all if she couldn’t have complete independence on the project, from the menu to the marketing and everything in between. Her forthrightness and the breadth of her vision was something that Ann admired deeply about her, and she was glad they’d gotten the chance to grow closer to over the years. She was the one who gave Ann the idea to try her hand at business classes, though her ultimate goals for that were still a secret between them.

Before she could respond to the  _ slander _ at hand, however, the bells above the door rang out into the coffee shop, and Haru turned, slipping back into full hostess mode. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for a--darling!”

Ann turned and saw Makoto slump into the shop, looking positively dejected. It had been a few weeks since she’d seen her--she was in her last year of police training, but working part time shadowing a street detective on the days that she didn’t have class. Haru leapt to her side, taking her by the arm and giving her a quick peck on her cheek. Ann smiled to herself as she saw Makoto blush slightly--though the two had been dating for the better part of a year now, she was still easily embarrassed by such public displays of affection. Though part of Ann harbored the suspicion that her embarrassment just made it all the more fun for Haru.

“I’m on a break,” Makoto explained solemnly. “I have to go back in a minute.”

“Oh, dear…” Haru led her to the sofas, and shifted her attention to the photographers. “I’m so sorry,” she said to them in a tone that somehow suggested equal parts consideration, equal parts authority. Ann made a mental note to ask her how she did it one day. “Could we take a short break? Please, let me get you some water.” She shuffled Makoto down onto the couch and then fluttered to the bar, thanking the photographers for their understanding. 

“Rough day?” Ann ventured meekly as Makoto, with a look of fatigue, removed her uniform hat. Makoto looked at her with surprise, then smiled her usual soft, warm smile. Though it was hidden under her hat, Ann smiled to see that she was still wearing her signature braided headband, after all this time (if only for the small act of rebellion that it represented).

“Ann! Haru said you’d be here today.” Makoto sighed, and looked down at her hat while she fidgeted with it in her lap. “I’m just… having a hard time at work these days.”

“Are they back to doing it again?” Haru reemerged, handing Makoto a glass of water as she sat down beside her on the couch.

“Yeah… It’s always, Niijima, make coffee. Niijima, check the mail. Niijima, I lost my photocopy, go make another one. It’s maddening! As if I’m there to be some kind of secretary.” Ann wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Makoto pout, but this was probably the closest she’d ever come.

“I had no idea,” she said softly, sheepish about where to put her eyes. She’d never known anyone who worked harder or more willingly to take care of others than Makoto did, but to see her exploited for that as if that were what she was there for, as though she were not a person with her own reasons for being there... Ann hated seeing people disappointed, and it hurt to see her friend in so much pain from the career that she chose out of her own commitments and beliefs.

“Ah, well,” Makoto sighed, a self-deprecating smile on her face. “It’s because I’m a woman. My sister did warn me.” Ann frowned, looking down at her hands, not knowing what to say.

“Yes,” she heard Haru confirm. Ann looked up, and saw Haru take Makoto’s hands in hers. “And because you’re young. And exceptional. And you’re brave and smart and good.” She paused, tucking Makoto’s hair behind her ear for her. “And beautiful.”

Makoto blushed again, looking away.

“And because we live in a hierarchical society where people are treated very badly whenever they’re the most junior. The world is slow to change, you know that.”

“Yes. Yes… you’re right. I know.”

“And when you’re there for a few more years, when everyone will see how good you are--you’ll become chief, you’ll change the whole culture, you’ll make everyone know they’re cared for, and everyone will respect you so much.”

Makoto laughed in response. “I think it will take me more than a few years to become chief, Haru.”

“In any case!” Haru giggled, pulling Makoto by the arm until she was resting against her, tucking her head underneath her chin. “Everyone knows that you’ve gotten yourself there out of nothing but your own hard work, because you’ve achieved so much already. And, when you’ve finished your shadowing assignment in December, you’ll have accomplished one more thing on your way to where you want to be.”

Ann smiled at the scene in front of her. Haru was so positive and supportive that it was evident how much Makoto--who had usually been so used to keeping her feelings to herself--was able to relax in her presence, to allow herself to be vulnerable and cared for. And for Haru, who had always been so unsure of people’s motivations for getting to know her… it was so clear that Makoto’s coming to her for advice and entrusting her with that vulnerability meant the world to her. It had been sweet to see how they had grown together over the years, so much so that no one was really surprised when it happened (no one except, perhaps, Makoto).

Ann was shaken from her thoughts by her phone buzzing next to her. She opened it to find a text from Ryuji--a photo of him crouched on the ground, throwing up devil horns and grinning as a gaggle of eleven year olds poured a tub of gatorade over his head, accompanied only by the caption  _ WE WON!!!!!! _ Ann laughed in spite of herself, muttering the word “stupid…” under her breath. When she looked back up, both Makoto and Haru were looking at her, the latter with a knowing smile on her face.

“Ryuji?” she asked, practically waggling her eyebrows.

“They won their game,” Ann explained glibly, while Makoto nodded along, confused by the exchange.

“Oh,” Haru exclaimed, patting Makoto on the arm. “Ann and Ryuji are going on the most splendidly romantic wedding date,” she soldiered on valiantly through Ann’s hasty protest. “A fairytale wedding, at Disney Sea! Oh, doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

“Um, sure,” Makoto assented, a bit confused at the manner in which this news was being delivered to her. 

“Maybe we should try going some time,” Haru mused pleasantly.

At this, Makoto pulled away to look Haru in the eyes. “Are you sure? I mean…”

Haru smiled solemnly in recognition of what wasn’t said. After all, it was at a theme park where she had had to watch her father’s meltdown and death be broadcast on live national television. Haru returned her gaze softly, taking a hold of her hand.

“If you’re with me, I can do anything. Oh, maybe we can go when you finish your shadowing!” 

“I think it will be a little cold for water parks…” Makoto ventured, smoothing her skirt. “But sure, let’s think of something special to do together when I’m done. And--oh! But I should get back, and I’ve interrupted your shoot!”

Ann looked up from her phone, distracted by whatever it was she was typing. “Huh? Oh--no! No, I’m glad I got to see you!” She got up to give her friend a hug, waiting until she was finished readjusting her hat on her head. “Have a better rest of your day, okay. Let’s catch up soon.”

Makoto waved them both goodbye, blushing once more when Haru blew her a kiss on her way out. The latter turned back to Ann, who was once again engrossed in her phone, a fond smile on her face. She waited for her to finish typing whatever it was she was typing, then said, “Well! Should we get back to it?”

Ann nodded, pocketing her phone.

The rest of the shoot flew by, and by the end of it, Ann felt the kind of satisfaction she only felt when she knew she had captured the right mood for the shoot. She was surprised the time had gone so fast, until she noticed the sun starting to set through the window and felt her stomach starting to growl. Packing up her bag, she started to make her way towards Haru to say goodbye for the day, when a photographer intercepted her.

“Ann-chan! Great work today. I’m gonna send the proofs in tonight. I think there’s a lot in here to work with. You did a fantastic job.” Ann smiled gratefully, happy to hear her instinctive feelings confirmed by a second party. She was midway to thanking him, when he continued, “By the way, what was the thing you kept looking at on your phone today?”

“Huh?” she asked, truly confused until she remembered what he was talking about. “Oh, that was nothing.”   
  
“Well, tell nothing to keep texting you then,” the photographer quipped cheerfully. “It clearly put you in a great mood today. You were glowing in half of these shots. But I gotta get back to the studio. Have a great night, Ann!”

Ann waved goodbye, thanking him for all the work he put in that day. In the corner of her eye, she saw Haru looming, smiling pleasantly in the way she always was, giving no indication of whether or not she’d overheard. Unsure, she took it upon herself to break the ice. “Well, I should get going. But, I’ll see you soon?”   
  
“Of course, Ann-chan,” Haru returned, lifting herself up onto her tippy toes to kiss her friend on both cheeks. “Thank you so much for all your hard work today. You were positively  _ glowing _ ,” she remarked, eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“Okay,” Ann snorted, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, then. Give Makoto my love, okay?”

“I will,” Haru replied sweetly. “Get home safe, sweetie.”

“You too.” Ann slipped out and paused momentarily to breathe the fresh night air, the bells of the café door jingling softly behind her. The rainy season was beginning to taper off, and she enjoyed the crispness of a night that didn’t come on the tail of several straight days of rain. But she felt the call of her stomach again, which pulled her back into reality. Her neglected phone, meanwhile, buzzed at her in her pocket. She hesitated before pulling it out, already knowing what she was going to find:

**Sakamoto [skull emoji] Ryuji  
** _ 7 new messages _

She bit her lip and exhaled shortly, unsure of the feeling in her stomach. Until it grumbled again, and she decided it was hunger. She slipped her phone back into her pocket, making her way to the closest subway station. Whatever it was, it could wait… at least until she could talk to Shiho (or some dinner) about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANN..............................


	3. fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ryuji tries to figure out how he feels, and futaba has placed a tracking device on yusuke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is turning out way longer than i expected it to because i'm really enjoying!! playing with these miscreant teens who are brought together rebelling against shitty adults suddenly now having to figure out how to navigate adulthood, so... this is happening ;;

“I mean, did she say it’s  _ not _ a date?”   


Ryuji slumped against the counter in Leblanc, morosely watching as Akira poured hot water over some freshly ground coffee, distributing it evenly in mesmerizing circles. It had been a day or two since Ryuji had heard from Ann, and she hadn’t mentioned the plans to go to the wedding together since their phone call that morning. The only proof he had that the conversation had even happened was the blurry, low-res picture of the invitation she had sent him. 

“She didn’t say it  _ was _ a date, dude. Pretty sure that’s the more important detail here.”

Akira smiled serenely, giving a little shrug as he continued to pour. Ryuji frowned, put out by his friend’s nonchalance. “I mean, we’re not all like you,” he mocked affectionately. “Not everyone can turn every social interaction into a date without trying to.” 

Akira chuckled under his breath, and turned his full attention towards Ryuji. An eyebrow arched, he smiled in a way that was no less serene but so much more… something. Ryuji had seen it a hundred times before, but still he felt himself swallow dryly without meaning to. (He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about it, or wouldn’t consider it if a proposition was made.) But in a second the moment was gone, Akira’s attention turned back to his work.

“Do you  _ want _ it to be a date?” he asked neutrally.  

Ryuji hunched his shoulders, shaking off the feeling as he knit his eyebrows together in that scowl he got whenever the answer was not immediately apparent to him. Akira was usually great to talk to for the same reason he was sometimes terrible to talk to. He had a way of just sitting by you and listening, not trying to influence you so much as be there for you while you talked it out by yourself. Usually it resulted in some deep kind of self realization, the kind that changed lives and opened the sky and pushed everything into place, right where it was supposed to be. The kind of realization there was no coming back from. The kind that Ryuji was so  _ very _ much not trying to look for right now. “No, I just--want to--know, that’s all,” he explained, only sounding about 20% convincing even to himself. He scratched the back of his head, chewing on his bottom lip distractedly.

“Of  _ course _ it’s not a date! Lady Ann is a woman of discerning taste and standards!” Morgana piped up from the bar stool next to Ryuji, seated in the best cat approximation of how a human might sit--hind legs splayed out in front of him as he hunched over them, back curved, one paw behind him for support while the other draped inelegantly over his stomach. Though the pauses he took to lick fastidiously at the fur on his legs somewhat ruined the effect, and Ryui’s frown deepened in irritation.

“I didn’t ask you, you stupid cat!” he fired back, though he did find it hard to disagree. Whatever failings Ann might have, he found it hard to believe that being interested in a loser like him might be one of them. He scowled, deep in thought, chewing distractedly at the straw of his iced coffee (to which Akira had graciously added extra milk and sugar, just the way he liked it, without needing to be asked).

“I don’t know, but… it kind of sounds like you want it to be a date a little bit,” Akira observed as he arranged two cups of coffee on a tray to bring over to his customers. Ryuji exhaled as he watched his friend work. Now that Akira was back in the city, an emancipated adult and fully exonerated of his past charges, Sojiro was more than happy to welcome him back, not least of all because it meant he could leave him in charge of the café by himself and take more days off to do… whatever it was he did on his time off. Akira found that it was pleasant enough work: he enjoyed the independence he got, and the time he got to spend with his friends when they were able to visit… not to mention the comparatively cheap, spacious housing for a young person living on his own (with his little cat buddy) in Tokyo. It just kind of sucked in the winter.

Before Ryuji could protest, or make any kind of reaction, the door of the café swung open dramatically, bells clanging against each other in a frantic clamor. He felt, rather than saw the glint off the perpetrator’s glasses, as well as the rumbling chuckle that accompanied her entrance. Futaba stood in the doorway, laptop in hand, grinning victoriously as though she’d just succeeded in shutting down a corrupt politician’s secret side bank account.

“A fake wedding date plot… of course… Panther, I should have given you more credit,” she mused out loud, as though talking to herself, in a room full of other people. Ryuji glanced at Akira for help, as puzzled at her sudden appearance as he was by her declaration. Akira shrugged, lifting the tray to carry it over to the table where his two customers were waiting. Useless asshole.

“It’s not a fa--hold on--are you still bugging this place? What even for??”

Futaba shrugged, pushing her glasses up as she slid into the seat next to him and opened her laptop. “How else am I supposed to make sure this  _ miscreant _ is really doing his job?”

Ryuji glanced at Akira, who shrugged again, then back at Futaba. Deciding it was more trouble than it was worth to pursue the subject further, he allowed it to drop. But there was another that nagged at his curiosity, and though he had a feeling he’d regret it, impulse control was never a quality he ever pretended to pride himself on. “What do you mean, fake wedding date plot?”

At this, Futaba grinned like the cat that ate the canary, chuckling to herself as though Ryuji had fallen into her perfectly laid trap. “It’s a flawless formula, according to at least 25% of the world’s trashy romance novels and blockbuster romantic comedies. Most of the time the lead character (usually a workaholic or a total disaster or both) invites some random guy to a family member’s wedding to convince everyone that  _ yes she does actually have a boyfriend _ except they’re just pretending, sometimes they’re friends and sometimes they’re randos who start out hating each other but anyway then they fall in love for real and usually there’s a scene where they like kiss in the rain and stuff, but really that’s in all of them, and--”

“Hold on hold on hold on,” Ryuji shook his hands in front of her, trying to pump the brakes and redirect her attention away from the sudden, overwhelming barrage of information. “Why do you know all this?” 

“She’s trying to do research so she can seduce Yusuke,” Morgana explained glibly before Futaba had the chance to say anything. Nonchalantly, he licked at his paw, and ran it against his ear as though he had just made a simple comment about the weather.

It was harder to tell what was louder--Futaba’s cry of “I am  _ NOT!!! _ ” or Ryuji’s horrified shout of “ _ YUSUKE???” _ The two Leblanc customers (an old couple that lived just around the corner) turned to look at them questioningly. Akira, unperturbed, resumed his place behind the bar, leaning against the back counter and pulling out his phone to scroll through some site or another.

“Not so  _ loud!!! _ ” Futaba chided in hushed tones, as though she thought there was a chance Yusuke might have bugged Leblanc as well, unlikely though it was. She pinched Ryuji on the arm for good measure, before pouting and pulling her legs up underneath her so that she was sitting in a low squat, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Ow!!!” he protested, pouting and rubbing at the offended spot. But seeing his friend’s troubled posture, he softened. She had come so far from the days when they had first met her, growing more confident and assertive as she began to feel more and more safe in the presence of others, but her tells were clear as day. Ryuji didn’t always know the right thing to say to people, but he usually knew when to back off. Usually. “So............... Fox, huh?” he ventured, as gently as he knew how. “How long has this been going on?”

Futaba hunched her shoulders further and pouted. “It’s not really…… going on at all, actually.”

Ryuji hummed sympathetically. That at least, he could relate to. “Does he… know?” he asked gently. He had a hard time picturing their friend being aware enough of another’s attentions for long enough to notice any kind of attraction, let alone to reciprocate it. Though to be honest, the more that he thought about it the two of them did have enough similarities that it wasn’t the  _ weirdest _ idea he’d ever heard.

Futaba simply sunk further into her pose. “Inari is being… Inari about it.”

“Gotcha,” Ryuji frowned in understanding. As little as that explained, it said as much as he needed to know. Futaba didn’t elaborate, so he decided to let the matter lie, reaching out to pat her gently on the shoulder. At least, that was his plan, until suddenly--

“Oh, no. No, no. Nonononono no no no no no,” Futaba’s eyes bulged out of her head, her attention caught by something on her computer screen. She leaned forward, squinting at it, as though searching for something--confirmation, maybe. Before Ryuji knew it, she slammed the laptop shut, and a burst of orange flew past him as the bells above the door jingled in the background. Ryuji turned, in a state of confusion, to see Yusuke standing in the doorway.

“Man,  _ seriously _ ?” Ryuji shouted, looking around him in search of Futaba. She was nowhere to be found, unless one was to take Akira’s sudden shifting behind the bar as a clue.

“Hello to you too,” Yusuke responded neutrally, apparently not put out by Ryuji’s unexplained level of hostility. Possibly because he had just grown too used to it. Yusuke placed a small shopping bag on the counter, looking around the shop. “I was led to believe that Futaba would be here.”

A squeak was released into the café, and Ryuji cleared his throat subtly. “R-really? You looking for her or something?”

Yusuke nodded. “Akira said she had something she needed to talk to me about.”

At this, Akira stumbled suddenly, and it all clicked in Ryuji’s head. “Careful, dude,” he snorted, pulling out his own phone. Glancing at his only notification, he slid off his bar stool and patted Yusuke on the shoulder. “I don’t know man, but if you see her, tell her she should try talking to people before putting tracking devices on them.” Akira snorted, and Yusuke nodded his head earnestly. The best part was, he knew he  _ would _ tell her, and that he would feel her full wrath about it later, but it was worth it.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I gotta get to work. But uh,” he held up his phone, making eye contact with Akira across the bar. “Not a date, officially. Anyway see ya!”

Ryuji bolted out of the shop before anyone could react, or worse, force  _ him _ to react to the news he’d just delivered. Frowning, he pulled out a phone again to re-read the sudden message from Ann. He typed out a quick response, then shoved it back into his pocket as he made his way to the subway. This was just confirming what he already knew, he reminded himself. This was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ryuji my buddy my dude  
> akira stop hitting on your friends  
> morgana sits like my cat sits irl and it makes me want to cry!!!


	4. ann has a terribad day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ann has a terrible, terrible dream and it sets her up for a terrible, terrible day ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg so there's a smidge, like the tiniest, little pinch, of ~*~mature~*~content~*~ in this chapter and it's so small to the point where it's going to be really disappointing to everyone if i actually change the rating... and anyway teens these days, eating tide pods, what does the teen rating even mean anymore...... anyway i'm sorry pls let me know if it bothers u (rly!!)

Ann stretched lazily in bed, feeling the soft morning light seep in through the curtains. She didn’t have a shoot that day, so she didn’t need to rush to get in to work early to spend five to ten hours in the hair and makeup chair. Not that she was complaining or anything. But it was nice to get to have the extra hour or two before she needed to go in to check her latest proofs with the editor.

She drew her blankets cozily around her, flipping idly through her social media. Her instagram feed was getting repetitive--at some point a few years ago she was hit with a sudden impulse to follow _way_ too many accounts of people who liked to make tiny lifelike replicas of desserts, and every time she thought about unfollowing one or all of them she always hesitated. It’s not like they _weren’t_ cute, after all. She did like them. But she didn’t remember asking them to take over her whole feed about it.

She curled her toes and threw her phone aside, still not in a hurry to jump out of bed. She was feeling well rested, better rested than she had in a while, and was enjoying the quiet peace of the morning. She thought she remembered having a dream, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Not that it really mattered. She never usually remembered her dreams, it was weirder when she did.

Slowly, she slipped out of bed and padded her way sleepily to the kitchen, dressed only at the height of comfort--a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of pink house slippers with embroidered white sheep on them. Out of habit, she continued scrolling through the same unchanged instagram posts she had just closed of tiny cakes with tiny strawberries as she started heating her water for tea. She let her mind wander as she scrolled, and snippets of her dream started drifting back to her.

She remembered firm hands on her hips, a hot breath against her lips. So it was _that_ kind of dream. Nothing wrong with that. She’d been so swamped at work lately that those kinds of thoughts had taken a back seat to exhaustion and other worries--probably a sign that adulthood had caught up with her at last. She hummed, pouring her tea as she tried to call up more details. She remembered the hands pushing shyly up beneath her shirt. She remembered rock hard abs and toned, leanly built shoulders that felt more than looked like the color of gold. She remembered burying her face in the curve where those shoulders met her partner’s neck, muffling her giggle in soft, warm skin that somehow smelled like the sun. She remembered a familiar crooked, toothy grin and the confident glint of an eye tempered by a gentle, hesitant touch. She remembered--

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered to herself, just now noticing that she’d somehow poured hot water just short of her mug and spilled it onto the counter instead. Searching for a dish cloth, she frowned to herself as realization dawned on her. Did she really..? Was she really? She chewed on her bottom lip, searching for an explanation. Instead, she remembered more vividly--wrapping her legs around her friend as he pressed deeper into her, the sound of his name a gasped whisper as she--

“ _GOD,_ ” she shouted, blushing hotly and throwing the soiled dishcloth into the laundry. Haru. This had to be Haru’s fault. There was no other explanation.

*****

 **ANN.  
** just so we’re clear this whole wedding thing isn’t like… a date or anything  
just wanted to… be sure it’s super clear i guess lol

Delivered

Ann huffed impatiently at her phone, puffing her cheeks out in frustration while the subway station jingle played and the doors slid shut beside her. It had been hours since she messaged Ryuji, but he still hadn’t looked at it. (Of course he was the kind of person to leave his read receipts on. Of course he was. She wondered if he even knew they were a thing.) She slid over to the end seat, newly vacated at the last station, halfway through her commute to work. She replayed the events of her dream for the hundredth time that morning before squeezing her eyes shut and burying her hands in her hair, groaning softly. How was she supposed to look at him after this? What an absolute nightmare.

When she got off at her stop and reemerged above ground, her phone buzzed with several simultaneous notifications. Her heart jumped, and she opened them hastily.

 **ALIBABA.  
** panther i am going to kill your husband istg  
he has wronged me in the most  
unspeakable way  
can you pls come and get him  
take him away from me i beg you  
nevermind no hes gone

Ann typed out “???” and hit send, only to receive an immediate bounceback message. She opened a new text window to send a message to Futaba’s _actual_ account, when her phone buzzed again, this time with a notification from Ryuji. If her heart had jumped before, it made a desperate attempt to escape through her throat when she saw it. Though it was, unsurprisingly, intensely anticlimactic. Of course it was. Of _course it was._

 **RYUJI.  
** uhh okay lol  
thats’ fine  
thats; cool

Ann exhaled, not sure she knew how she felt about this response, when her phone buzzed again.

 **RYUJI.  
** why this all of a sudden??

Ann felt her stomach sink with a strange feeling of guilt. Not that she had anything to feel guilty about. Except, well. But that really at least wasn’t her _fault_ , so--anyway. She sighed, and typed out a response.

 **ANN.  
** sorry haru just got in my head a little lol

 **RYUJI.  
** uhh okay lol  
thats cool ya whatever  
gotta go now practice is about to start

Ann stared at her screen, feeling honestly a little relieved that she had an excuse not to carry the topic any further. She exhaled shortly and pushed the door into her agency, making her way up to the 18th floor.

The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully--she sat with the editors to choose the best shots for Haru’s café spread slated to run in next month’s Non-no. She always felt a little awkward seeing herself from the other side of the camera. Even after all the years that she’d put in as a model, some parts of her skin still felt odd to wear in public after years in school of being ostracized, ignored, and avoided for her foreign appearance. Confident though she was in her looks, she still braced herself for the odd microaggression--and sure enough, they did come. The more famous she got, the more some people seemed to take issue. Though more often than not, their venom only made her more grateful for the loyal support of her friends--not to mention, the other young women out there who said she gave them hope.

Her nose crinkled a little when she remembered one particular detractor (or in Ryuji’s words, fuckin scumbag), and the other reason she’d come in to the office today. Her RSVP card to Mika’s wedding still sat in her bag, weighing her down with every step. Though, or maybe _because_ they worked together, Ann liked to limit the time she spent speaking to her to as little as possible. Even if she was over all the drama from high school (and she _was_ ), Mika still, after all, had an absolute garbage personality and was without fail at all times an extreme drag to talk to.

She refocused her attention onto the task at hand, scrutinizing all the proofs in front of her for the best angle and lighting. This was the shoot where the photographer told her that she was glowing in half the photos after she finished. She didn’t know what he’d meant at the time, but looking at the screen, she could see it. Even to herself, she looked like she contained some kind of inner light source that was trying to seep out into the world. As far as smizes went, these were some of the best. She remembered what the photographer said-- _tell nothing to keep texting you_ \--and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Was it really that that had made the difference? She frowned. Couldn’t it just be that she was good at her job? Did one have to cancel the other out?? Why was she thinking so much about this?????

“Great job, Ann-chan,” the editor interjected suddenly, stirring her from her thoughts. “Thanks for all your hard work today.”

She smiled and stood up, careful to make sure that her cheerful work face was back in place. “Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of this,” she said in her best professional voice. “I’m so looking forward to seeing the spread when it comes out!”

She excused herself politely, and paused in the hallway to brace herself for her next task. _Okay_ , she thought, _it’s just Mika. I can do this._ She squared her shoulders and made her way down the hall towards the open plan office, aiming for Mika’s desk. Maybe in an ideal world, the spot would be vacant, and she could just leave the card on her chair or her keyboard. But it wasn’t an ideal world, and sure enough, Mika was there, scrolling through something that looked like diet tips with a bored look on her face.

“Hey, Mika...” she ventured softly, trying to make the other aware of her presence in the most neutral and inoffensive way possible.

Mika closed the window she was looking at hastily and turned around. When she saw Ann standing there, her forced smile vanished instantly, the way it did every time. Ann called up all her remaining resolve and stood her ground, handing her RSVP card over to her.

“Just wanted to drop this off with you,” she said, already ready to dismiss herself and make her way home.

“Ohhhhhh,” Mika looked the card over, unimpressed. “Sorry babe, but we have limited space. _So_ many guests coming, you know.” Ann forced a neutral expression, while rolling her eyes internally. “We can’t have plus ones unless it’s a really _serious partner,_ so… I’ll just mark you down for one.”

Affronted, Ann spoke before she had the time to think. “What are you talking about? He is a serious partner,” she said, relieved by how even her voice was when on the inside she was screaming loudly, at Mika as always but also, in this moment, especially at herself.

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Mika said flippantly, already moving to toss the card in the recycling.

“H-he is!” Ann stammered, determined to stand her ground despite the obvious out Mika was handing her. “We’ve been dating for a couple years now. His mom _loves_ me. Maybe we’ll even be able to return your invitation soon,” she laughed nervously. She was kicking herself on the inside--everyone told her that she was a horrible actor, that she went completely overboard whenever she tried to lie to someone but she felt like she was watching herself dig her own hole deeper and deeper from somewhere outside her body. Though, it was definitely true that Ryuji’s mom loved her, so at least she had that to fall back on.

Mika crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Why haven’t I ever seen him then?”

“Well, you know how it is, dating in the spotlight,” she said, waving her hands as she rattled on. “We wanted to maintain his _privacy_ , you know.” She smiled at herself, half proud, half not at _all_ proud of the subtle dig she was able to slip in at Mika. Mika’s dating, before it became an engagement, had been a major PR headache for the company--in addition to the harsh public views on dating for most celebrities, her fiancé was the prominent CEO of some company or another, and already on his third marriage at the young age of thirty. There were even rumors that Mika started dating him before he was divorced from his second wife.

Mika narrowed her eyes, the insinuation not escaping her. “Do you have pictures?” She continued, either not convinced or not willing to be convinced. Maybe both.

“Yeah,” Ann replied hastily, pulling out her phone. She dismissed a few more notifications from Futaba, then pulled up her photos. “Here he is with the kids he coaches,” she showed her, “aaaaand here we are on his birthday a couple weeks ago.” She smiled fondly at the screen. The photo was of the two of them in Leblanc--Ryuji drunk out of his mind, arm slung around Ann’s shoulder has he grinned his signature grin, tipping his bottle towards the camera as though trying to clink it with the photographer’s (who if Ann remembered correctly was probably Akira). Ann, only slightly less drunk, leaned against his chest, winking at the camera while doing what looked like a sloppy approximation of a magical girl transformation pose with her hands. She couldn’t really remember what it was. She only remembered that that party was the happiest she’d been in a while. It had only been a few weeks earlier, but it felt like a lifetime already.

“Here I am with his mom…” she continued, furrowing her brow as she continued to scroll through her camera roll.

“Alright, alright, I get it, you’re in love, blah blah blah,” Mika interrupted, obviously irritated. Ann blushed slightly at the accusation, but tried to keep her face neutral. She wasn’t sure what Mika had to be so annoyed about--wasn’t _she_ the one getting married? But she felt relief at her next words--“okay fine, you can come. I’ll see you and… Sakamoto Ryuji there.”

Victory overshadowed guilt and embarrassment, as it usually did, and Ann felt elated as she exclaimed, “Great! Okay, great! Thank you Mika! See you there!” Mika made an annoyed expression of recognition, and turned back to her computer, the RSVP card remaining on her desk. Ann took that as her cue to leave, and she did, feeling a lightness in her step as she made her way towards the elevator. The feeling started to sink more and more with each floor she descended, and as she reached the ground floor she felt reality confront her at last.

“Oh god,” she said, rubbing her face in her hands as she walked towards the door. “What have I done?”

*****

She chewed at her lip nervously as she made her way from the subway station to the schoolyard where Ryuji was working. Overcome with guilt, she decided she owed it to him to explain the situation to him in person. She had come to watch their games a few times with the others, especially in the beginning when he was just starting out as a coach. But it had been a while since she was last there. At first she was worried at the idea of him working with kids--his brashness and his horrific impulse control and his astounding lack of a verbal filter almost seemed to guarantee a swift end in disaster. But when he saw him interact with them as their coach, the way he cheered them on from the sidelines and patted their heads while they rested and comforted them when they lost, the way he made them all feel noticed and cared for--she knew that he had brought something into their lives that only he could have brought. He was everything Kamoshida should have been, and wasn’t. He was gentle. He was good.

She turned over these thoughts as she approached the field and caught sight of him, enthusiastic as ever on the sidelines. Her stomach turned when she saw his bright grin, and she tried her hardest not to notice the way his sweat made his tshirt cling to his _horrifically_ well defined back. They were wrapping up a scrimmage when she walked up, the team in the pinnies scoring a game changing goal in the last ten seconds on the clock. Ryuji exploded in cheers, running onto the field to high five every last one of his kids. She heard him praising them all, encouraging the losing team by reminding them _how_ close it was up until the last minute, saying how much they crushed it on defense. Meanwhile, the winning team swarmed around their last minute MVP kicker, lifting him up and carrying him around the field on their shoulders.

Ann heard Ryuji laugh, and smiled--but at once, the expression turned to one of horror as she watched Ryuji lift the edge of his shirt, pulling it up to wipe the mid-summer sweat off his forehead. She blushed heatedly and tried to look anywhere but at his softly defined abs, softer than in her dream but unfairly articulated by the sheen of sweat that covered them. Her horror intensified as she made out the lightly defined v pointing down towards…

She turned hastily, determined to make her escape before Ryuji noticed her presence. This was clearly a mistake, she should definitely cancel their RSVP and then cut off all contact with everyone and pick up a one way ticket to Finland where she could hide out in the mountains for the rest of her life, or at least until she could get whatever _this_ was under control. Whatever this was. _Whatever this was._

She stopped in her tracks when she heard Ryuji call out her name questioningly. She breathed, and turned on her heel, hoping her face wouldn’t betray her too much as she waved what she intended to be a cheerful greeting. She heard Ryuji tell his kids to take a water break, and wished desperately that her feet would unplant themselves from the place she was standing as he made his way towards her. She ran a hundred different explanations through her head in the time that it took him to get there, ranging from _Mika’s a monster and she says we can’t come_ to _I can’t stop thinking about you do you think maybe you and I could go out some time_ to _I’ve lost my memory and can’t remember who I am but something tells me you can help me_. No. Scratch that last one. Futaba must have gotten into her head somehow.

She greeted him with a soft “hey” when he made his way to her, noticing the way that he scratched at the back of his head as though he were nervous about something.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked hesitantly, for some reason not quite able to meet her eyes. Ann frowned with concern--It wasn’t like him to act so diffident around her, and it did nothing to ease her own nervousness. She did her best to gather her nerves, to be honest despite her extreme embarrassment and guilt. Deciding it was best to rip the bandaid off all at once, she squared herself, trying to summon up all the determination she could muster. She could do this. Ryuji would understand.

“Um, there’s been a change of plans,” she started, looking him in the face. He raised an eyebrow, and she continued. “I need you to be my boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE OFF TO THE RACES  
> it's not a real romcom without an unreasonable character placing unreasonable constraints forcing unreasonable actions in an unreasonable scenario amirite
> 
> anyway cut adult ryuji is all i really want i've been a good girl santa let me have this


	5. open for a surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ryuji gives some advice and then promptly fails to take it within the course of three hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so my life kind of exploded on me after posting the last chapter but i've been thinking about this fic still thank all of you who wrote comments they are very kind and i appreciate them!!!!!
> 
> i honestly have no idea how often i'm going to be able to update from now on but  
> i will try my best!!! in the meantime here have a chapter that's as long as like half all the other preceding chapters combined lmao

Ryuji skulked sullenly onto the subway, shoulders hunched as he made his way to the middle school for practice. He really was fine with Ann telling him it wasn’t a date. Really. He super was. Totally cool with it. Not a problem in sight. After all, he already knew that it wasn’t _going_ to be a date. Why would it be? This just helped clear up whatever confusion he had. Not that he had any. He already knew that it wasn’t a date. But if he did all that confusion was gone now. Definitely, completely, one hundred percent gone now.

He groaned and let his head fall against the window with a soft thump. This was Akira’s fault……… no, it was his fault. His fault for agreeing to go before figuring out what it was. Or worse, figuring out what he……… wanted it to be. Not that he wanted it to be anything. He just--

“Ugh, fuuuuck,” he groaned loudly, rubbing his hands through his hair roughly. He ignored the looks he got from other passengers, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. And the more he thought about it, the more it made his head feel heavy, as though someone had somehow, for some reason, found a way to fill it up with rocks. Ann was one of his best friends, and it wasn’t like he ever……………………… Or more like, he was always checking her out in high school, but that didn’t mean he……… He never……………………………………

Ann was too important. And their friendship was too important. Too important to fuck around with, too important to touch. She was too important for a fuck up like him to even try to get close to, at least in a different way from how they were already close. He didn’t even bother to think about it most of the time. No, _all_ of the time. At least until now. A part of him knew that he’d always loved her, would probably always love her. But Ryuji always managed to screw things up, even the most important things. _Especially_ the most important things. And Ann was just too important.

He was relieved when the subway finally reached his stop, and he pushed his way out through the crowd. He slumped his way out of the station and made his way towards the field. What he needed was a distraction, and his kids were usually more than capable of providing one.

He remembered the first day he applied for the job, a few years ago when his mom had hurt her back, so he tried to pick up more shifts at the gym than they could afford to give him at the time. His boss said they were looking for a new basketball coach at his kid’s school and suggested that he apply--and he did, not really thinking anything would really come of it. But when he got called in for an interview, he felt it all click. He’d spent a year suffering Kamoshida and even longer feeling guilt and taking the blame for the track team’s demise. He’d seen him crush bright futures and brighter spirits in the palm of his hand, not least of all his own. The principal asked Ryuji what he thought made a good coach, and before he could see it coming, the answers poured out of him--he already knew what a good coach was because of all the years he’d spent experiencing and witnessing the consequences of a bad one. All the lives he saw ruined, all the youths he saw stolen.

He didn’t get the job, because he barely prepared for the interview and even his best responses to most of the questions were _very_ disorganized--that, and he’d never played basketball in his life. But for the first time since the Phantom Thieves chapter of his life had ended, he realized there was another way he could help make sure kids wouldn’t have to suffer like he had because of all the shitty, abusive adults in their life. He could _be_ the adult in their life. One of them, at least.

It was a weird hat to try on, and at a different time in his life he would have shrunk from it. But in that moment, he suddenly knew what he could do. He knew what he _had_ to do. He knew what he wanted to do.

He greeted the handful of students that had gotten there before him, dropping his bag on the sidelines and shucking his track jacket. It was a hot day, so he made them go fill their water bottles while they waited for the others. In the meantime, he turned to start stretching--modeling good practices and all that--though one lone student sitting on the bleachers looking dejected caught his eye.

“What’s up, Kenta?” He greeted, flashing his brightest, most encouraging grin as he sauntered over.

Kenta made a small grimacey looking face that registered his recognition, but as Ryuji approached he pulled his neck down into his shoulders as though trying to retreat into a tiny turtle shell. Ryuji frowned. “Something bothering you?”

Kenta shook his head, but looked more sullen by the second. Ryuji’s frown deepened--it wasn’t like the boy to be so gloomy, and while beyond unqualified to take on any kind of counseling position, he still felt responsible for his kids’ welfare. So he pressed on gently, crouching down in front of him. “Did something happen with the game? Or the team? Or--”

Kenta shook his head again, and he looked like he was fighting with himself about whether or not he wanted to say anything. Fair enough. Ryuji couldn’t make him confide in him, no matter how much he wanted to be supportive. He was willing to step back and give him some space, and was about to, when Kenta interjected suddenly. “Mr. Ryuji, do you have a girlfriend?”

Ryuji sputtered, taken aback. “W-what?” he asked, feeling his face heat rapidly. “No, why?”

Kenta hunched his shoulders, pouting further towards the ground.

“Hey,” Ryuji ventured, forcing a swift recovery from the sudden, unexpected turn. Kenta was clearly in a very serious mood, and he deserved a serious ally. Or something. Ryuji wasn’t a teacher at the school so it was a little tricky to define his role there sometimes. But he knew that broadly defined, he was a caretaker in their eyes. He wanted to answer their trust as best he could. Not to mention, he _was_ the adult now. So he pushed his embarrassment aside, and tried to get as close as he could to the heart of the problem. He leaned forward, and tried to look him in the face. “You okay buddy?”

Kenta pursed his lips, receding further into his shell. Then, all at once, like a lowkey explosion, he murmered, “Igotkissedbyagirl,” avoiding eye contact diffidently. Ryuji blinked, and leaned in further, asking him to repeat it. Damn, he really was getting older. “I got kissed by a girl,” Kenta stammered loudly, face red as a beet.

“Woah! Good for you, man!” Ryuji laughed, relieved that it wasn’t something he was _less_ qualified to handle. Or something really troubling, that he’d be required to report to someone with some actual authority. “Or… not good? I guess?” he amended, judging by Kenta’s continually cloudy demeanor. “Do you not like her or something?”

Kenta shifted in his seat, and mumbled “I never said that.” Ryuji scratched his head, unable to see the point.

“So… if you like her what’s the problem? She likes you back! You’re not excited?”

Kenta shook his head. “ _She_ kissed _me_. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“What.” Ryuji furrowed his brow in confusion. “Where’d you hear that from?”

“My dad,” Kenta replied, shifting in his seat.

“Ah,” Ryuji replied, squinting in the general direction of the sun. Now, shitty dads with equally shitty, skewed views on correct and enjoyable gender relations, he had a lot of experience with. He patted his sullen duckling on the back. “It’s okay, dude. If you like her, and she likes you, you don’t gotta worry about it. You can kiss each other all you want.” Kenta looked up at him questioningly, and Ryuji amended his statement suddenly, stammering, “I mean, when it’s, like, appropriate to be kissing each other! As long as you’re both cool with it! You don’t hafta kiss anyone if you don’t wanna. Just don’t, you know, kiss any girls before knowing if they _wanna_ kiss you or not.” He scratched at his head, wishing he were more articulate.

Kenta laughed in an, okay dumbass, I already knew that kind of way, but smiled up at Ryuji anyway, in a way that managed to be earnest and reassuring, even coming from an eleven year old. “Thanks, Mr. Ryuji.”

Ryuji smiled back, relieved by the response but feeling stupider by the second. “You should probably talk to her, though. She’s gonna think you don’t like her.”

Kenta glowered sullenly, but nodded his agreement. “Yeah………………… I guess.”

Ryuji’s heart leapt in relief when he saw the other students approach, arms overflowing with bounty--that is, with newly filled water bottles. “Come on,” he said, jumping up from the bleachers and reaching his arm out towards Kenta. “Let’s have a good practice, okay?”

\---

It _was_ a good practice, and in the last ten seconds of their scrimmage, Kenta scored a tie-breaking goal, inciting a near riot as his teammates swarmed around him in appreciation. Ryuji laughed, heart warmed to see the clouds cleared away from the boy’s face and replaced with a what looked like a familiar confused mixture of pride and relief, with the smallest hint of disbelief. Watching as they lifted him off the ground and began parading him across the field, he laughed and called them in for a huddle--or what was going to be a huddle, until he saw what he thought looked like a familiar figure walking away at the top of the hill.

He called out her name, and sure enough, she stopped in her tracks. At once, he felt his heart skip a beat and his stomach drop to the bottom of the ocean. He hadn’t expected to see her so soon, not to mention _alone_ , and her sudden appearance had him shaken. He hadn’t decided what to say to her yet since learning that the date thing that wasn’t _really_ a date thing that maybe he kinda sorta wanted to think about _turning_ into a date thing definitely _wasn’t_ a date thing. He’d kind of thought he might have a chance to catch Akira alone to talk about it, if they could find somewhere that Futaba hadn’t managed to bug at this point. But he saw her turn and smile at him as she waved, and he felt blinded by the feeling. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay, fuck.”

He sent his kids away for another water break and made his way up to the hill towards her. She looked, in a word, perfect--white cropped jeans and a blue flowy crop top, with her baby pink sandals somehow matching her purse perfectly. Her hair was in a low ponytail, reminiscent of the bushy pigtails she’d been so fond of in high school. It almost hurt to look at her, she just looked… perfect.

“...I need you to be my boyfriend.”

“What-?” he stammered, shaken from his thoughts by the sudden declaration.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she pleaded, pouting guiltily. “Mika was being awful and she… said I couldn’t bring you unless you were my boyfriend and I panicked. I really wanna go with you, I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

At this, the pancake in Ryuji’s stomach flipped. When he finally worked up the courage to look her in the face, she saw her eyes searching his. “Me too,” he confessed, heroically restraining himself from saying any of the other things on his mind. _Also the other part_ , his brain whispered helpfully. _The other part sounds good_ _too_.

He cleared his throat and shoved the thoughts in a corner. _Not the time, dude_ , he thought in annoyance. “Okay, so... what would ‘being your boyfriend’ entail?”

He saw her eyes soften and crinkle in the corners, and he absently wondered if the soft pink lip gloss she usually wore was always so shiny. “Oh!” she replied, “We just have to try to look like a real couple, I don’t know. I’m so sorry about this. I don’t wanna put you in a weird position.”

“S’not weird,” he murmured, then cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. Why did he feel so itchy all of a sudden?

Ann brightened up instantly. “Oh. Really? You mean, you don’t mind? You’ll still come with me?”

“Yeah, I mean.” Ryuji cast his gaze aside, finding it hard to look straight at her. But he forced himself to, anyway. “If it’ll help you out, it’s cool. I was kinda looking forward to it, too.”

He didn’t register her moving towards him until he caught her suddenly, arms thrown around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. He tensed, and breathed in a lungful of something that smelled softly like a flower he couldn’t name. Not that he could really name any, but that was beside the point. Gradually, he softened, and moved to return the hug. He placed his arms hesitantly around her back--a place they’d been hundreds of times before, but not like this. It was… nice. He almost swore she heard her release her breath (had she been holding it?) and he melted further into the feeling. But then it was over, killed instantly by the sensation of his hands brushing softly, inadvertently against the small strip of skin exposed by her crop top. At once, they leapt apart--him as though he’d been burned, her as though she’d been electrocuted.

They both laughed, embarrassed, equally unable to make eye contact. “Guess we’re not too believable as a real couple, then…” Ryuji murmured, blushing deeply.

“You’re right... “ Ann responded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Maybe we should practice,” she suggested, her face and voice too serious for Ryuji to feel good about it. But he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, her words suddenly jogging her memory. Practice… _practice_ …

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he interjected, looking down the hill at his now very hydrated collection of middle schoolers. Sure enough, they were all staring up at him, expectantly awaiting his return. “Fuck,” he laughed, turning back to Ann. “Can you hang around for like, ten minutes?” he asked, glancing at his phone. “I just gotta wrap up here.”

“Sure! Yes! Of course! Go. Go, go,” she responded, waving her hands as though floating him down the hill back to his team.

Ryuji slumped back to his kids, trying to brace himself for the coming storm. Their excitement from the scrimmage had worn off, and he could sense an excitement of a different kind beginning to build. Half of them whooped and hollered at Ryuji when he returned, and he huffed, frustrated with himself for getting so sidetracked. “Okay, so--”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a girlfriend,” Kenta pouted at him, looking mildly betrayed but in a mostly (Ryuji thought--Ryuji _hoped_ ) joking way.

“I don’--that’s not-- _no_ ,” Ryuji stammered, feeling his brain heat up again at the memory of what she’d just told him. _I need you to be my boyfriend_. _Need._ _You_. _Boyfriend_. He shivered inwardly, hoping that none of his kids noticed, then switched back to coach mode as quickly as he could. Grinning at Kenta, he ruffled his hair and said, “Hey, how about that tie breaking goal though, huh?”

Kenta pouted, though a slight smile betrayed the fact that he was not all that put out at having the greatest accomplishment of his entire life ever brought up again in front of everyone. The rest of the practice passed fairly uneventfully--he debriefed the scrimmage with them and worked on getting them amped up for their next game--the last before their summer vacation. He could tell they were getting antsy for break but were excited regardless. He couldn’t help but share the feeling. He remembered it well himself.

He glanced at Ann every once in a while, perched up on the bleachers. He noticed as her attention alternated back and forth between her phone and him--that is, what was going on on the field. He greeted parents as they started to arrive, making sure to high five each of his students before they left for home. The first time a parent had smiled at him and greeted him as a _real and actual coach_ he could barely believe it. It still felt crazy surreal, even now.

As the last family pulled away, student whining about how he didn’t _want_ to see his math tutor today, Ryuji sighed and made his way back to the pile of things he had left on the sidelines. He looked up at Ann sitting a few tiers up on the bleachers, staring at the sky. Both of them preferred summer to other seasons, precisely because at this time of day the sun hadn’t set yet--but it had sunk far enough below the tops of the trees and the buildings that the air had cooled somewhat, and a soft breeze brushed the small strands of hair around her face. He felt his heart race as she brushed her hair away from her face as she turned at him and smiled. Fuck. He really was completely and utterly fucked.

He climbed up the bleachers to sit next to her, smiling nervously at her when their eyes met. She smiled, and looked down, her hands placed flat on the bleachers beside her. Out of instinct, he did the same, a healthy three inches separating his hands from hers. Absently, Ryuji wondered if her eyelashes had always been so long, if the bones in her left pinky had always looked so crooked. He swallowed in spite of himself when she looked up at him, and he leaned back against the bleachers behind him, trying to laugh it off. “So…”

“Should we get some food?” she suggested suddenly, pulling him back into the here and now. Now that he thought about it, he had worked up an appetite after practice. And, now that he thought about it, he realized he was probably disgusting and smelly, after all the sweat he’d worked up running around in the summer sun. But she’d waited for him, so he couldn’t tell her to just go home now. So he smiled, and agreed.

“Sure. Let’s get some food.”

\-----

“Okay so I was the most popular girl in school and you were waaaay too shy to even talk to me--”

Ryuji snorted unattractively into his soda. “ _What_?? That doesn’t even sound believable,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Come on,” he grinned, shoving a french fry into his mouth.

“Okay well--” Ann pouted, irritated with his failure to cooperate. “ _You_ think of something then.”

“I don’t know,” Ryuji shrugged, “I’m not good at this shit.”

“True…” Ann agreed, a little more quickly than Ryuji might have preferred, though if pressed on the matter he couldn’t exactly argue.

The first step to successful subterfuge, they agreed, was to coordinate every aspect of their backstories so no one could call them on their bullshit. And the one thing they absolutely agreed on was that there was no reason to bring up the thing that had _actually_ brought them together--the unifying thread in their broken young lives. Not to mention, that whole Phantom Thieves episode. Those details were best kept between themselves. But they were going to a fairy tale wedding that was guaranteed to be airbrushed from head to toe, so why not do some retouching of their own?

So there they sat in the Shibuya diner, trying to brainstorm something that would be easy enough for them (Ryuji) to remember, but believable enough for them (Ann) to deliver, as they worked on their desserts. Or really, Ann’s two desserts. She couldn’t decide between the churro sundae and the chocolate lava cake when she was ordering, so she coerced Ryuji into ordering one so she could have some--or most--of both of them.

“Okay well howwww about,” Ann continued, breaking the last remaining churro in half. “You were on the track team, so… maybe I walked up to you after a race you won because you looked, like,” she shrugged and rolled her eyes, “super good or something.”

Ryuji grimaced, trying to imagine how high school him would have reacted to something like that. He couldn’t deny, he probably would have found it _pretty_ enticing.

“Sure, I guess. And maybe I was like… secretly in love with you or some shit,” he waved his hand, finding it hard to make eye contact. He fidgeted with his straw, using it in an assault on the ice at the bottom of his cup, just for the sake of drowning out his embarrassment with the sound of its clatter and crunch.

“OooOooOooh, yeah that’s good,” Ann said, tapping it out on her phone. She was taking notes for him so they would both have them, even though Ryuji insisted it wasn’t necessary. “Makes you sound all deep and romantic and shit. I like it.”

On a certain level, it almost felt like they were back to their heart stealing days--expending all this effort to maintain a secret identity while knowing that the only people they could count on for their success were each other. If nothing else, it made them both feel exhilarated, and that much more determined to pull it off. Instinctively, a part of both of them knew--no matter how well they did on their own, they always did better together.

“I can be deep and romantic and shit,” Ryuji protested, but Ann barely seemed to be listening. He watched as she continued typing, muttering under her breath: “ryu… sexy……… racetrack…………… secret……… deep…. romo feelings………………”

Ryuji groaned inwardly and wished he could take it back instantly.

“Okay, maybe I’ll work on the rest of this at home and let you know,” she said, locking her phone. “We still have a few days. We should think of some cute stories about our relationship to pull out in appropriate situations. Like the stuffed dolphin one ooooh that’s a good one.” She unlocked her phone instantly and began tapping it out, the very tip of her tongue sticking just out of her mouth in concentration.

Ryuji snorted and muttered, “when are you gonna get over that…” before taking a spoonful of ice cream.

“Never. Literally never,” Ann replied, smiling and looking satisfied with herself as she re-locked her phone. “Okay! Are we ready for the next practice round?”

Ryuji goggled at her, spoon still in his mouth. “Mmemhnmopmroun?”

Ann rolled her eyes and pulled it out, smirking as some melted ice cream dribbled out with it and he fumbled to wipe it up. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed around his mouth until he batted her hand away, glowering as he took matters into his own hands.

“You know,” she said, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “The part where we… try to look like we’re a real couple.”

Ryuji stared, not quite sure where she was going with that. Then suddenly, realization dawned on him and he mouthed more than replied, “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Yeah,” Ann replied shyly, blushing a little but looking up at him with her perfect robin egg blue eyes. She chewed on her lip slightly, and Ryuji could have sworn, for just a moment, that she glanced down at his mouth before looking back up to meet his eyes. Ryuji stared, as though someone had busted a fuse inside his head and it stopped working, maybe permanently. The only feeling in his body was the heat building inside of him, threatening to take over. He felt--“Ryuji?”

Ann shook him from his thoughts, placing her hand over his, and he sputtered a hasty “sorry,” laughing slightly at himself. He cleared his throat and issued a nervous, “um, what did you have in mind?”

She shrugged, looking _way_ too lighthearted about all of this, in Ryuji’s humble opinion. “I don’t know. We could start small, like with some hand holding or hugging or…”

Ryuji felt his mouth dry. “Or?”

Ann shrugged and leaned in just _ever_ so slightly, looking him in straight in the eye. “It’s up to you.”

Ryuji nodded, brow furrowed deeply as he took this information in. Ah. Mm. Interesting. They sat there for a few moments in silence, Ryuji continuing to react without reacting as Ann waited patiently for a reply, hand still poised gently over his.

“Ryuji?” she asked again after a few moments, at the same time that Ryuji interjected suddenly, “I, um. Have to go, uh,” he pointed at his phone, “do a thing. I’ll be right back.” He stood up hastily and stumbled over his legs almost as much as he stumbled over his words. Hastily, he clambered towards the door and shot himself down the stairs and out onto the street.

He stood there awkwardly, feeling embarrassed at his inability to face his problems head on. No--that was usually his problem, that he  _always_ faced his problems head on, usually with little to no regard for the consequences. But he couldn't, with this one. It was too important. She was too important.  He huffed in frustration, thumb hovering over the send call button. He couldn’t decide if talking to Akira was the exact thing he needed, or the exact thing he didn’t need in that moment. He didn’t know. He didn’t _know_. There was so much happening so fast that he had no idea what he should do, what he _could_ do, what he wanted to do. No, that last part was a lie. He definitely knew what he _wanted_ to do. He just didn’t know if he should do it. Or if he _could_ do it.

He stood like that for a few minutes, locking and unlocking his phone as he waffled back and forth in indecision. He felt bad that he'd left Ann in the diner and thought about all the things he told Kenta just that afternoon. _You should talk to her, she's gonna think you don't like her._ He grumbled in frustration-- _so_ much easier to give that advice than to take it. Not to mention, he wasn't eleven anymore, he rationalized to himself. His  _friendship_ with Ann was eleven years old. He shuddered at the realization, feeling more paralyzed than ever. 

He knew he needed to go up and face her at some point--he'd left her there with all their stuff, not to mention the check. He rubbed at his face and groaned softly for a moment, then squared himself to finally return and apologize. Until he heard a soft voice behind him.

“Ryuji?”

He turned, and saw Ann standing there, holding his duffle bag and his track jacket in her arms. "Fuck," he muttered, realizing he'd taken so long that she'd straight up just given up on waiting for him. He really was the most colossal asshole. He sputtered an apology, only belatedly realizing that at the same time, so did she.

“Wait, what?” Ryuji asked, confused about why she was apologizing.  
  
Ann shifted her weight between her feet, looking uneasy. “I didn’t mean to push you so hard about it. I’m really sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I really don’t want you to feel weird. I can talk to Mika and cancel the whole thing--”

And Ryuji kissed her. Just like that, he closed the distance between them, cupped her face in his hands, squeezed his eyes shut, and he kissed her. His brain was shouting all kinds of reasons why he shouldn’t--she’s too important, she’s _too important_ , what did you JUST tell Kenta you fucking moron, she is too _god damn important_ \--but he did it. He lingered there for a moment after they broke away, resting his forehead against hers. He was afraid to look up and confront the reality of what he’d just done--but from where he was standing, he could tell she was smiling. Okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

He pulled back hesitantly, and looked up shyly to meet her eyes. There, he found something vaguely shaped like joy, and at the sight, he swallowed shallowly and flicked his tongue out to lick his lips. He felt frozen again, unsure how to proceed. She nudged at his nose with hers, smiling brightly, and he laughed, brushing his thumb lightly over her cheekbone. Cautiously, he leaned in again, pausing just before a second kiss to whisper softly, “Practice?”

Ann looked down, then back up, and she nodded. He felt her arms wrap around his back and pull him in close. His bag, which she was still holding, bumped against his leg, and he felt the urge to relieve her of it, if only it didn’t mean breaking apart from her. He didn’t think he could do that now, even if he wanted to.

“Practice,” she repeated, pulling him in unambiguously.

Ryuji's stomach ached with the confusion about how he wanted to feel about this. His mind was screaming that this was the worst idea he'd ever had--to which he responded, unhelpfully, that it wasn't  _technically_ his idea. He was about to follow her lead and lean back in as well, before pulling back a second time. He grinned his toothy grin at Ann in response to her frustrated pout, and said, "What about the check, though?"

Ann smiled back, and tugged at him insistently. "I'll add it to your tab," she whispered, before leaning in and pulling him down towards her. 

 _Fuck_ , Ryuji thought as she kissed him, and he felt her smile against his lips. She was kissing him, and he was losing himself in it. He was utterly fucking fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FOREHEAD TOUCH  
> kesha voice it's going down  
> im gonna be telling my grandchildren about the stuffed dolphin exchange on my deathbed while they say we know grandma we've heard this a million times already  
> p.s. i did not play the game in english so in my reality ryuji says fuck, like, a lot


	6. smooth move sakamoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ryuji tries, and fails, to obtain debt forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me if the pacing feels kind of weird for this one i spent all day doing this instead of grading ;; now i'm gonna go... do... that..............

Ann stood in front of her closet, wrapped in a towel as her hair dripped over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, and she chewed on a thumb nail, brow furrowed in thought as she contemplated her different options. She’d never had to think about what to wear when seeing Ryuji before. Half the time these days she just rolled out of bed before seeing him. Literally. The last time he came over, she answered the door in her pjs and made him wait around in the living room while she got ready.

Of course, what had changed between now and then, she regretted to acknowledge, was that she learned what a stupid good kisser he was. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. In the years since they’d grown together, he’d become the closest thing to a brother she ever thought she would have. Like a dumb, loudmouth brother who was always there but for some reason, contemplating his not being there was neither possible nor acceptable. Only now he was a dumb loudmouth brother who she now knew was stupid good at kissing and _ew, no, okay, that’s definitely enough of that train of thought forever_.

She impatiently snatched the first dress that caught her eye--the red one with the white flowers on it, light enough for summer but not so revealing that she’d spend the entire day feeling paranoid about it. She puffed her cheeks out as she got dressed, feeling irritated with herself.

It was true, kissing Ryuji had turned out to be unexpectedly, maddeningly, irresistibly fucking _stupid_ good. Stupid good, and not in the least the way Ann needed it to be. She needed it to be like a routine, an afterthought, a habit. That was the way that she was going to convince her coworkers that they’d been dating for years, not with… whatever this was. She didn’t know what this was. The only comparison that came to mind as she reached for the hair dryer was a wavepool, one with ups and downs that tossed her around and stole her breath whether she’d been intending to hold onto it or not.

She combed through her damp hair with her fingers as she switched on the dryer, and replayed the events of the night before in her memory. The way his breath hitched slightly and his eyes widened in that way that they do when she pulled him in towards her. The way he held her tighter the longer they went on, lips pushing more assertively against hers as though trying to prove to himself that this was real, that she was there. The way his neck continued to stretch out towards her even after they broke apart, a familiar, almost comforting crooked smile on his face. The way her knees might have felt weak, but it didn’t matter because she was holding onto him anyway, arms wrapped around his back as she gazed shyly into his eyes. The feeling she got when he smiled back at her.

 _Imagine what it’d feel like if it were real,_ her brain prompted, and she hushed it up with a grumpy huff.

She finished drying her hair and moved on to her makeup when she heard her doorbell buzz. She huffed, and made a quick job of her mascara and lip gloss. She pouted at the mirror, sizing herself up. Yup, good enough. It’s just Ryuji, anyway. She scampered to the door, shouting “just come in, god!” as she heard knocking. She’d given Ryuji the code to her front door years ago, but he never used it. Something about being afraid of ‘seeing stuff he wasn’t supposed to see,’ whatever that meant. Fucking Ryuji.

It was the first time, obviously, they had seen each other since borderline making out on the streets of Shibuya the night before, and Ann felt a brief twinge of nervousness that she shook off immediately. She let out a quick exhale and grounded herself before opening the door at last. _It’s just Ryuji_ , she reminded herself. _You got this._

“What the fuck,” she said flatly, taking in the sight before her. Ryuji was standing there, grasping a small bouquet and looking… disheveled as fuck. But like, in a good way. Like in a _really fucking good way_. This time, he was the one who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his sharp jawline was dusted with the ghost of the lightest five o’clock shadow. She stared gobsmacked at the way his purple tshirt hugged the muscles in his chest, revealing firm definition and highlighting the broadness of his shoulders. Shoulders she wanted to get her hands on (back on), shoulders she wanted to lean against while he held her in his arms… his arms which--she didn’t want to look at his arms right now. They were the same as always. Which was to say they were terrible. Which was to say they were wonderful. He looked really fucking good, and it was the worst thing he’d ever done to her.

Ryuji frowned, looking at the flowers in his hand. “What, too much? I thought so, it was my mom’s idea, it’s stupid, forget it--”

Ann cut him off, grabbing his wrist to stop him before he did something stupid, like throwing the flowers on the floor of the hallway. “No, I--” she stood aside and held the door open for him, huffing while she brushed him inside. “Sorry,” she said, taking the flowers from him and smiling to herself as she sniffed them. She recognized them instantly--they were the same kind that Haru used to keep on the roof, what seemed like an age ago. She guessed it was an age ago, now. Now she was growing them in the window of her cafe, which a part of Ann remembered was remarkably out of the way for both Ryuji’s house and hers. She rolled her eyes, but wasn’t exactly sure at who.

“What’s this?” she asked, rubbing her hand against his jaw.

“Hm? Oh, ha-” Ryuji laughed, following her into the kitchen as she went to get some water to put the flowers in. She searched for a suitable receptacle, settling on the biggest drinking glass she should find. True, she was paying her own bills and taxes and stuff, but she guessed she still wasn’t a real grown up, at least not the kind that had vases in her house waiting to be filled with flowers from random suitors--or--Ryujis--or--nevermind.

“My mom’s goin’ to visit her sister so I took her to the airport early this morning. I kinda… fell asleep after that,” he confessed, embarrassed. He lifted his arm to scratch the back of his head and Ann, furiously, caught sight of the tiniest sliver of skin sneaking out from under the hem of his shirt. _Forget the whole fake date thing,_ a part of her brain whispered treacherously. _Let’s just make out on the couch instead._

“Mm,” Ann sort of responded, keeping her eyes down on the work in front of her. “It looks good,” she ventured, in what she hoped was the most casual voice in her repertoire. But sounding natural was never really her strong suit, so she really didn’t know.

“Really?” Ryuji asked, grinning and rubbing at his jaw. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter next to her. “Good to know,” he said in his stupid, goofy voice. She rolled her eyes impatiently and plopped the flowers into their new home.

“Doesn’t match your hair, though,” she pointed out, turning to face him. Ryuji frowned, and rubbed at his face some more, trying to see his reflection in the glass of her cabinets. She remembered he had thought about dying his hair back while he was applying for jobs, and kept getting rejected for the first few. Most schools didn’t want him setting a bad example for the kids, and have them show up one day trying to imitate him. But then he got a job, so he promptly dropped the idea and moved on with his life. The blond hair suited him, anyway. And if she had to think about it, Ann didn’t hate the fact that they matched. If they were gonna stand out, might as well do it together.

She leaned against the counter next to him, and reached over to ruffle his hair a little bit. With a gun to her head, she would admit that he was cute when he got self conscious. But she was safe in her own kitchen, so she kept that information to herself. She bumped his shoulder with hers to get his attention, and he blinked at her.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she mumbled quietly, as though she didn’t want him to hear it. Maybe she didn’t. It wasn’t important.

He turned towards her, and Ann suddenly realized how close their faces were. She felt the urge to back away, but she stood her ground. She swallowed dryly.

“Wait, you told your mom?”

Ryuji laughed, embarrassed. “I mean, kind of. She asked what I was doing today so I told her it was a date… I didn’t tell her who it was, though.” He lowered his voice, and Ann didn’t know why, but she got it. “Too complicated.”

Ann hummed in agreement, though the feeling sat weirdly with her. “Too complicated,” she echoed back.

A pause hung in the air between them, and Ryuji continued. “She’s _real_ excited about the wedding, though.”

Ann laughed, looking down with a fond smile. “Of course she is.”

“Of course she is,” Ryuji repeated.

Another pause. Ann realized dimly that both were waiting for the other to move, which made her feel more frozen than before. She thought about how close he was, how easy it would be to push him up against the counter and press herself against him, to kiss him like the world was ending and get her hands in that awful, offensive shirt and take everything she suddenly seemed to want. She wondered how much he would let her have without asking questions. She didn’t know that she wanted to find out.

She didn’t realize she was staring until he flicked his tongue out over his lips and ventured quietly, “Should we…”

“We should--” she interjected hastily, catapulting herself away from the counter and scanning the room for her bag. She shuffled into the living room and found it lying on her couch. Throwing it over her shoulder, she turned to face him. She couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face, and she gave him a questioning look.

“Shoulda cleaned myself up a little before coming here,” he said after what felt like a lifetime, but was only a few seconds. “You look nice.”

“--Okay,” Ann responded hastily, and walked out the door.

She didn’t see Ryuji smile after her as he followed.

\---

Neither of them really knew why they picked the aquarium for their practice date. Neither of them were that interested in it as a general rule, but they both agreed that it did have the appropriate date vibes. They already ate and saw movies together all the time anyway, so none of those felt particularly date-like--plus, they were less likely to run into anyone they knew there than at the park or somewhere similarly public, similarly exposed.

At least, that was how Ann rationalized it as she walked with Ryuji holding hands, fingers awkwardly interlaced. Whatever she tried, something didn’t feel right, and she forced him to switch sides with her about twenty different times before eventually giving up. Ryuji frowned at her as she continued to fidget.

“Still bad?” he asked, sounding slightly amused but also a little put out. She shook her head, pouting impatiently.

“No, it’s--I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.” She rearranged herself, grasping at his arm with the hand he wasn’t holding. This could work. Hesitantly, she rested her head on his shoulder. Yeah, this could work. She felt him shift and exhale quietly, unsure if it was a laugh or something else. She raised her head and looked up at him questioningly, and felt a slight twist in her stomach when he grinned down at her. Stubbornly, she fixed her gaze at the fish tank in front of her. The fish were really fascinating. So many colors. Wow.

They stayed there for a moment, staring blankly at the fish that were floating around, living their fish lives, going about their fish business. Absently, Ann felt a little jealous. Fish didn’t have to try to sort out their feelings for one of their best friends because of the stupid web of lies they were weaving for the sake of maintaining appearances at some shitty coworker’s wedding. Fish just ate and pooped and said hey to their fish friends when they passed by each other in the tank. Fish had it together. Fish were chill.

She jumped suddenly at the feeling of Ryuji kissing her quickly on the top of the head. Affronted, she disengaged immediately, glaring at him accusatorily. Ryuji just shrugged, grinning at her as though claiming innocence with the least innocent expression imaginable. “You said we were supposed to practice,” he said, as though that were any kind of justification.

“Fuck off,” she responded, though his smile failed to dissipate. She glowered and grabbed his hand, pulling him along to the next tank. They were at the aquarium, god damn it. They had some more fish to see.

“Ooh, I wonder if there’s sharks in here,” she thought out loud, pulling him into a tunnel. She leaned against the rail, looking up into the blue expanse. In front of them, a school of fish skittered out from a coral reef, and she watched them as she felt Ryuji settle behind her, enveloping her in a backhug. He placed his head on her shoulder, looking into the tank with her. _The fuck did he learn that move_ , she wondered bitterly.

“Dunno,” he said casually, “wouldn’t they just eat all the other fish?”

“I-I don’t know,” Ann replied, trying to keep it together without betraying the fact that her insides were vibrating as though trying to escape. “Maybe. Ooh, there’s a turtle though,” she observed, pointing as a large sea turtle swam by. She felt, more than heard Ryuji humming against her in acknowledgment. Hesitantly, she put her hands over his where they rested over her stomach. She tried to stop thinking so much and to just be there, in the moment. He was right, they had come here to practice. She tried to relax against him and just take things as they came. It was nice in the tunnel, peaceful and quiet, and she felt warm in his arms. Every so often, he would move his hand to point and laugh at a particularly silly looking fish, and she felt weirdly cold until he replaced it.

“Oooh, there it is!” she exclaimed suddenly, using one hand to hold his arms against her and the other to point excitedly as a shark swam peacefully above them. She closed her hand more tightly over his, bracing herself against the presence of a real and actual shark. She knew it was stupid to be afraid, and she wasn’t, not really. But she felt her insides shake anyway at the sight, and felt Ryuji squeezing her back in response.

Emboldened at being proven right, she turned to face him with a grin. “He kinda looks like you, Mr. Pointy Teeth,” she teased, rubbing her hands on his face scruff again.

“Hey,” he mumbled, frowning, though Ann could see a smile tug at the corners of his mouth despite himself. The overall effect was more shy than defensive.

Ann realized only belatedly that he hadn’t moved since she turned, and suddenly she felt crowded, his arms now around her back and their bodies pressed together, leaning back against the railing. In an instant, she saw that he had the same realization, and before she could think about it, she grasped at his arms, holding him in place before he could back away.

“Ann…” he started softly, as if issuing a concerned warning. As if offering her one last chance to come to her senses and back out from a bad decision. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want any of it.

“Shut up,” she said, pulling him towards her and crashing her lips against his. She felt him exhale against her, as if deflating, before tightening his grip around her and pressing their bodies more tightly together. She let out a sigh of relief, of a kind of pressure released, of victory and of hunger. _Finally,_ she thought to herself as she felt his tongue probe tentatively at her mouth, grasping the back of his neck and angling her head just so. She let out a soft, sweet noise in response to an accidental grunt from him, and she smiled as she felt him shudder against her. “Ann,” she could have sworn he heard him whisper again, but that was impossible--they hadn’t pulled apart, they _couldn’t_ pull apart, if it were up to her they would never pull apart. Instead she just hummed a response to him, reveling in the feeling of momentary bliss. She--

“Mr. Ryuji?”

They heard a voice behind them, and catapulted apart from each other, horrified at the realization that at some point another human had started to exist. Ann straightened her dress and Ryuji ran his hands through his hair, greeting a small group of middle schoolers on what looked like a school trip. _Of course,_ she thought to herself, _how could I forget._ Only one of them seemed to recognize Ryuji, though, judging from their expressions, and the one who did seemed rather unsurprised by what he’d just witnessed. If anything, he looked pretty amused and a little smug.

Ryuji scratched the back of his head. “Sorry you had to… see that,” he said, looking askance.

“S’fine,” the student replied, grinning widely.

“Your whole class here?” Ryuji asked, awkwardly.

“Yeah,” the student replied, chipper as ever. He moved his gaze to Ann, then back to Ryuji.

“Cool. Cool, cool,” Ryuji repeated, shoving his hands in his pockets. He floundered, looking like he didn’t know what to say, so Ann stepped in, clearing her throat and pulling at his elbow.

“We should probably…”

“Yeah--” Ryuji agreed hastily, trying his best to recover face in front of the students. “We should, uh, go. Let you guys. Get to it. But uh, see you in school, alright?”

The kids nodded as he waved and let Ann steer him out of the tunnel and towards the exit. They walked back to the lobby in a daze, Ann walking silently beside Ryuji as she waited for him to react. She knew what he was thinking--would they tell anyone, would this hurt his standing at the school, did he have to start looking for new jobs… She knew it wouldn’t have happened if he was on duty, but she also knew that some people didn’t care. She also knew that Ryuji loved his job. That he excelled at his job. That he belonged at his job.

She worried at her lip, reaching out to take his hand once they made it out to the lobby. His hand jerked slightly, but he didn’t pull it away. Instead, he looked at her, eyebrows knit together like he didn’t know what to say. “You okay?” she asked gently, squeezing his hand to remind him that she was there.

“Yeah I’m--” he paused, looking away, then back at her. “I really love that job.”

“I know,” she said seriously, pulling him into a hug. It was completely different from the embrace they’d just entangled themselves in a minute ago, but in some ways it wasn’t. She held the back of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder, and just held him still. Held him grounded. Ryuji let out a half laugh, half groan of frustration, holding her back.

“We don’t know what’ll happen yet. Could be nothing,” she reminded him, stroking the hair at the back of his neck. He nodded against her shoulder, and she could have sworn she heard him sniffle just a little. She pulled away to look in his eyes again.

“It sucks though. I’m sorry.”

Ryuji looked at her, confused. “Why are you-”

“If they try to come after you you can say that I’m a crazy person who just threw myself at you. It’s not that far from the truth, anyway,” she laughed.

Ryuji laughed, and held her hand up, as though he was almost thinking about kissing it. But he released it, some other thought or instinct interfering before he could. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, scratching at the back his head. “It’s not your fault. I don’t think anyone watching would have believed that, anyway.” He smiled, searching her eyes.

“I mean, you did get _pretty_ into it,” she observed playfully.

He laughed, and she could see in his shoulders that some, if even the tiniest bit of tension had been relieved. “Fuck off, so did you.”

Ann shrugged, ready to claim plausible deniability and stride right through the door. But Ryuji caught her by the wrist, and she turned around, questioning.

“Hey, uh,” he started, hands in his pockets, suddenly looking shy about something. “I got you this while you were in the bathroom.”

He pulled out a small stuffed dolphin attached to a key ring, and Ann’s heart did a somersault. She smiled fondly, taking it in her hands and inspecting it closely like a precious baby bird. It was the best gift he’d ever given her. It was the best gift anyone had ever given her. _Smooth move, Sakamoto_ , her brain whispered bitterly.

“I love it. It’s perfect,” she said brightly, fastening it to the strap of her purse. Then her demeanor turned serious, and she looked Ryuji in the face. “Just so we’re clear, though. This doesn’t absolve you from repaying your debt.”

“Ah, god damn it,” he responded, grinning widely. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the exit with her. Though to be perfectly honest, she supposed that she couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies to ryuji for making him live out one of my deepest darkest fears aka having students witness me having an actual personal life jakslfa; not that i do much making out in public lmao
> 
> may come back and edit this in the future if i decide that the pacing bothers me too much eyes emoji idk life is still weird but i wanted to put this here while it was still in my brain so pls have this i'm sorry!!!


	7. back on track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ryuji takes a ride on an emotional roller coaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i fought with this chapter for so long so i'm sorry for what it is, also sorry for drawing this out as long as possible, i'm... this is happening :|||
> 
> also i'm never going to accept ren as protag's name so i'm sorry if that bothers anyone but he's akira forever to me shrug kaomoji!!! atlus needs to quit doing this to us iajs but also that boy is such an akira like... pls

Ryuji sat slumped in a chair in front of the principal’s office, hands clasped between his knees. He chewed on his lip, deep in thought, as he bounced his leg nervously. It was a position he’d occupied many times, but not for some years--and this time, it was him waiting to go in, not waiting for his mom to walk out with a heartbreaking look of tired acceptance on her face.

He--they--had decided this would be the best course of action after some oblique texts to Makoto (- _ hey um asking for a friend but like hypothetically if someone was like... kind of employed at a school but not full time and some students walked up on them making out w someone in publci while they were off duty…  _  -  _ What?  _ \-  _ asking for a friend _ \-  _ You said that)  _ (followed by -  _ DONT TELL HARU anns ays pls don’t tell ahru _ \-  _ Oh... _ ). So there he was, waiting to be let in so he could come clean and hope that the sentence would be light and he at least could keep his job. 

He shifted in his seat, thinking about what he wanted to say. Ann had insisted that he blame her, that he lay it all at her stupid thirsty feet (her words) and vow to never see her again. He smiled wryly--it was like her to try to solve her friends’ problems by covering for them. She always did. First with Shiho, now with him. If Ann saw someone she cared about with a problem, eleven times out of ten she would try to throw herself at it and take care of it herself before anyone could even realize what she was doing, or worse, try to stop her.

The problem was, Ryuji wasn’t too good at lying and saying it was  _ all _ her fault was definitely a total lie. True, she’d been the one to initiate the actual kissing part of the equation, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been instigating something along those lines the whole time. He didn’t know what it was with him lately, only that suddenly he felt like he might be addicted to getting any kind of reaction he could out of her. He didn’t know since when. Maybe forever. And the problem was that the more he succeeded, the more irresistible it got. The way she bit her lip and stared a little when she thought he wasn’t looking, the way she blushed and looked around, eyelashes fluttering in embarrassment when she realized that he was. The way that she seemed to glow from the inside out when something he said or did made her laugh. The way she sighed and smiled against his mouth when they kissed, pressing herself against him and curling her arms around his neck as he gripped her around her waist. 

He shook himself out of his thoughts. The problem was, the more he succeeded in getting reactions out of her, the worse his addiction got. The louder the voice in his head saying  _ maybe this could be real, maybe there’s a chance it should be real, maybe she wants it to be real, too. _ A part of him knew better, and he knew that was the part that he should definitely listen to. But impulse control was never his strong suit, and that wasn’t how addictions worked. And he was definitely addicted, completely in over his head and way past the point of no return before he’d even realized he’d waded in. In no uncertain terms, he was fucked.

“Sakamoto?”

The door to the principal’s office opened, and his stomach sunk further. He really  _ was _ fucked. The principal ushered him in, and he bobbed his head in a nervous greeting. His hands were sweating and he felt awkward in his own body, exhaling heavily as he walked in. He fumbled his hands slightly and stayed standing beside the chair in front of the desk until the principal shut the door behind him and invited him to sit down. 

“So,” the principal started, smiling at him opaquely. “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yeah--yes,” Ryuji started.  _ Already off to a great start, asshole, _ he chided himself. He tried to remember the lines that Makoto suggested to him (for his friend). 

“I wanted to let you know first in case any of the students started talking about it…” he started awkwardly. The principal kept staring at him, semi-expressionless, over the rim of his glasses, so he pressed on. “I was at the aquarium during my off day with my, uh……… girlfriend…” He forced the word out, hoping to god his face wasn’t too red. “And some students were there for a field trip. So they saw us having a… private moment…”

His eyes darted around the room, too embarrassed to sustain eye contact throughout his confession. But he forced himself to at the end, doing his best to present himself as an adult taking responsibility even though he felt like a schoolboy confessing that he’d done something even more trivial like hit a baseball through a window. The principal smiled at him with a hint of thinly suppressed amusement. “A private moment,” he repeated.

“Yes, we--they saw us kissing. A little… vig…….orously.”

“I see.”

Ryuji nodded, and looked down. This was going every bit as embarrassingly as he expected it to.

“Did you ask them not to share this with others?”

“No,” Ryuji replied immediately, eyes wide. “No, I. I don’t think it’s fair for adults to ask children to keep secrets for them. Especially teachers.” He shifted uneasily in his chair, and looked up at the principal. Luckily, at least, his smile hadn’t dissipated.

“Fair enough.”

Ryuji nodded, silently. He wasn’t sure what happened now. The principal didn’t seem shocked, or outraged like he’d been expecting. But he also wasn’t saying anything. So Ryuji pushed on, steeling himself and clearing his throat. He’d decided to take responsibility, so he had to go all the way. There was no turning back now--he had to do it and just hope for the best. “I understand if this creates problems for the school, and I’m very sorry. I will accept whatever judgment you decide on.”

The principal looked at him, puzzled. “Judgment?”

Ryuji nodded, full of nervous adrenaline. “I have loved working here and appreciate the opportunity. But if my being here becomes a problem for the students or the school, I--”

The principal waved his hands, cutting him off. “Sakamoto, no. You are not being dismissed for a mild accidental… indiscretion,” he assured him with a light chuckle.

The fear that had been building up in Ryuji left him in a violent rush, and he suddenly felt exhausted with the sheer impact of his relief. “R-really?” He asked, not sure if he should believe it.

“Really,” the principal laughed, straightening his glasses, then his suit jacket. “No, you were right to tell me. The whole thing should blow over in a few days--if not, the students have a valuable opportunity to learn that it is not appropriate to discuss others’ personal affairs. We will make sure it does not become an issue.” He peered through his glasses at Ryuji, who swallowed shallowly. “But I appreciate your not trying to hide it or to silence them. That was very good of you.”

Ryuji nodded, afraid that if he spoke a word or made a sound he might somehow find a way to ruin it.

“If the parents find out and complain… we might tell them that you just got engaged, and were overwhelmed by the excitement. That should satisfy them.” Ryuji’s eyes widened, and his face turned bright red. The principal laughed. “What? You want to marry that girl, don’t you?”

Ryuji’s head spun, and all he could do was stare. All of this was too much--he wasn’t even  _ dating _ Ann for real, but of course he couldn’t tell him that. So instead he just nodded, hesitantly, as though hoping no one would even notice. He felt guilty about it, guilty towards Ann even though she didn’t know. The principal laughed at him again. “You young people,” he chided playfully. “You better think about asking her soon,” he advised, “before somebody else comes along.”

Ryuji nodded again, feeling strangely, unexpectedly serious all of a sudden. Up until this point, he hadn’t really thought about marrying anyone, let alone Ann. He kind of just figured he wouldn’t, like, ever. He’d never been that future oriented to begin with, and the thought of finding someone who could tolerate his utter  _ bullshit _ long enough to want to spend every day with him (other than his mom, who he just figured did it because she kinda had to) was just all but unthinkable. So he just figured marriage: good for some people, maybe, but probably not for him. 

When the principal put it that way, though--when he thought about how much he and Ann had been through together, how much they instinctively knew about each other without needing to ask or explain… How much they’d already fought for each other and taken care of each other for years now. The way every second he spent in her company was easy, the way they always knew that they’d always be there… Maybe one day there  _ would _ be someone else for her. The thought that there could be someone else for him was seeming more distant by the second.

“Anyway,” the principal chuckled, likely at the brow Ryuji only belatedly realized was deeply furrowed in thought. “I’m glad that you’re here,” he continued. “I had another thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Ryuji raised his eyebrows, surprised. He readjusted himself, trying to shift his gears back into professional mode.

“As you know, Takeuchi is having a second child in a month or two. We wanted to ask if you were interested in subbing in for her for the duration of her maternity leave.”

Ryuji stared again, jaw slack, completely stunned into silence. Takeuchi, the gym teacher--this would mean full time work, a steady paycheck, a chance to save a little--maybe his mom could even reduce her hours at her job if it was enough. He nodded vigorously, and the principal laughed. “We’ll need to interview you again, of course. But it would be easier from our perspective to hire someone internally, and... we see a lot of potential in you.”

Ryuji paled, and swallowed dryly. This might have been the first time he’d ever heard those words said about him, by anyone, let alone a person in a position of authority, probably ever. The principal continued, though Ryuji’s ears were just ringing. “It would only be temporary, for a year or two, but who knows what kinds of doors this could open for you. We want to make this investment in your future. If you’re interested.”

Ryuji’s heart was racing. His face felt flush, and he was sure he couldn’t suppress a grin. “Yes, I mean--please, I would… I mean…  _ Yes.” _

The principal smiled warmly, as though he’d just received the response he’d been expecting all along. “Shall we discuss details now?”

Ryuji nodded, his ears ringing with excited confusion.

\---

Two hours later, he hovered outside the entrance to Ann’s studio, clearing the notifications for the approximately ten thousand texts she had sent while he was at school. They’d both agreed that he should come by right after meeting with the principal to let her know how the talk went, but it ended up taking longer than either of them had expected. Obviously, neither of them had expected this outcome, and he wanted to tell her in person.

He breathed in and out deeply as he got onto the elevator. After an impromptu interview, the principal had offered him the temporary full time position starting immediately after the summer break. He was still shaking with disbelief as he pressed the button for Ann’s floor. The principal’s words rang in his ears--( _ we see a lot of potential in you--want to make this investment _ )--and suddenly, for the first time, the future seemed like an open field, like something worth thinking about, even for a fool like him.

He chewed at his bottom lip as the elevator let out a ding to signal its arrival at its destination. The question came up in his interview, and he still didn’t really know where he saw himself five or ten years from now. But one thing was becoming more and more clear to him. He knew who he wanted to be there.

His heart jumped slightly as he saw her, sitting in full makeup and costume, staring into the camera with the most intense game face he’d ever seen in his life (and he’d seen a lot of her game faces over the years). He’d seen millions of her shoots and spreads in the magazines and online, but he rarely got to see her in action. This time she was dressed as a sort of wood nymph, an expensive looking gown hanging off her shoulders and flowers placed haphazardly in her hair, looking somehow messy and elegant at the same time. It was terribly high fashion, and Ryuji didn’t understand it in the slightest. But he knew she looked amazing. She was completely in the zone, unlocking facial expressions and body angles he didn’t even know were possible. She looked like a true professional, and he was struck where he stood.

The director called for a break, and he watched as Ann’s expression lightened instantly. He saw her carefully take a sip of water from a plastic bottle, trying hard not to ruin her makeup, which had doubtless taken hours to apply. Not that Ryuji knew anything about that. He felt awkward and out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb with his horrendously bad posture among all of these fast moving, sophisticated, business types of people with their hair tightly tied back and their austerely filled in eyebrows--and he wasn’t sure if the sheer number of black turtlenecks he saw in the room were a choice, or a uniform. He tried straightening his back, but that just made the feeling worse--as alien in his body as he was in the studio. 

He caught Ann’s eye and waved awkwardly, self consciously, stomach flipping when they locked eyes and he saw her grin.  _ Be cool _ , he reminded himself as she started to make her way over to him, gathering her giant skirt in her hands and slipping her feet into a pair of slippers like a woodland Cinderella.  _ Be cool be cool be cool be cool. _

“Hey,” she greeted him softly. Her eyes were searching his, and he swallowed shallowly, as though trying to keep his heart from escaping through his throat.  _ Be cool,  _ he repeated insistently in his head.  _ Just be cool. _

“Hey,” he echoed softly, almost in a whisper. He’d been thinking about what to say to her the whole way over here, but now that he was here, now that he was facing her, now that she was close enough to reach out and touch he felt cautious, more cautious about anything than he’d been in his entire life. Suddenly, there something in the air that felt too delicate to disturb, that dampened his usual bull in a chinashop demeanor.

“So…” she prompted, fidgeting nervously with her skirt. He could tell she’d been worrying, and he felt bad about making her wait so long--bad, but also something in his chest turned at the knowledge that she’d been thinking about it so much, that she cared. But of course she did--that was who she was. That was who she’d always been, for all her friends, as long as he’d known her. He tried to remind himself. He tried to remember.

“I, uh,” he started, trying to pace himself through his announcement. He cleared his throat, and carried on, trying to make his voice as steady as possible. “I got offered a full time position,” he said, voice still strangely soft as he concentrated on returning her gaze.

“You WHAT?” Ann shouted, grinning widely as she grabbed his shoulders, shaking him sharply--shaking him out of it. Ryuji laughed, and returned her grin, feeling the happiness and the relief and the disbelief all bubble vibrantly inside of him at last.

“It’s only temporary,” he added hastily, “covering for the gym teacher while she’s on maternity leave, but. It’s for a year or two, and who knows what--”

“Ryuji!! What the fuck!!!!” she yelled excitedly, punching him in the arm. He gave her an exaggerated pout, rubbing at the injured spot. He was vaguely aware that people had started to stare at them, but Ann’s smile was luminous, it was contagious, and he felt like his cheeks were about to start hurting as he tried to match it out of habit. “Have you told your mom???” she demanded, fingers burying themselves in his sleeves. 

Ryuji shook his head, following her hands on his arms with his eyes. “Not yet. I wanted to…”  _ tell you first, talk to you, I wanted to share it with you, to celebrate together. I needed to talk to you before I could make it feel real. I wanted it to mean something to you too.  _ “Process it. A little more first. I’ll do it as soon as I leave.”

“You better or I’ll do it myself!” she declared, beaming brightly. 

Ryuji smiled, and he nodded, looking down at the space between them. “I will,” he murmured softly, then fell silent. He stood there for a moment, trying to suss out the contours of what he was feeling there. It was soft and amorphous, big and small at the same time, and bright and warm, intensely warm. He swallowed again and looked into her eyes, a hundred words at the tip of his tongue but none of them developed enough yet to find their way out. Which was probably a good thing--all his thoughts were so incoherent he was afraid of what they might sound like if they somehow managed to impose themselves on the world. Ann returned his gaze, still looking overjoyed but also searching, eyes filled with an unvoiced question. But he smiled, and she smiled back.

“Oh Ryuji,” she continued more softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a gentle, careful hug. She clasped one hand on the back of his head again, resting it against her shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

Ryuji smiled, a wave of emotion billowing inside of him as he hummed an acknowledgment. He hugged her back, wrapping his arms snugly around her back, and felt more aware of others staring. He was unsure if it was more to do with the potential damage he might do to her costume, or their more general suspicion of what she-- _Ann_ _Takamaki,_ their superstar--could be doing hugging a scruffy looking loser like him. He tried to deflect the feeling by burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding her more tightly. “Thanks,” he whispered, or at least hoped that he did. At this point his voice felt so feeble he wasn’t sure they weren’t communicating telepathically.

Ann hummed and rubbed her thumb lightly against the small hairs on the back of his neck--a gesture that felt, strangely, more intimate than anything else they’d done in the past week. He pulled back slightly and looked into her face. It was the first time they’d been so close since the last time they got… carried away, except this time they knew they were being observed. This time, they weren’t practicing. But his insides felt the same, and the look on her face made him wonder if there  _ was _ a chance that maybe hers might too. He wondered if being this close made her remember the last time they’d been this close, or the time before that. From the way her eyes fluttered down towards his mouth, then back up at his, a smile tugging coyly at her lips, he suspected that it might.  _ Fuck, _ he thought, as he felt his face reddening.

“Hey,” he started, unsure of where he wanted to go with it. He flicked out his tongue to moisten his lips, which suddenly felt very dry. He wanted to say something. He knew it was a bad idea. He had to know because he was the  _ expert _ of bad ideas, having come up with so many in his life that he might as well take out a patent on the whole concept by now. But the way she was looking up at him questioningly, face filled with curiosity and something that looked almost vaguely like anticipation--the way it was making his insides twist felt like it was pushing it out of him, like he couldn’t hold onto it any longer, like he had to say  _ something.  _ And he  _ wanted _ to say something. So he inhaled, fingers curling against her back as he tried to make the words take shape. “Do you--”

“Ann-chan!” an attendant called, gesturing her back to the set. Ryuji cursed under his breath, and Ann knit her eyebrows together apologetically.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling away from him slightly. “I should get back…”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said, nodding vigorously. He might have kept going, just blurted it out quickly before she had any time to respond, but the moment was gone. It was delicate enough to begin with, and now his nerve was totally shot. “Yeah, no, go do what you gotta do. No worries,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He suddenly felt awkward with nothing to hold onto anymore. 

“Did you…” she started, looking wary.

“Nope!” he stammered hastily. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” He tried laughing it off, scratching the back of his head miserably.

“Okay…” she said, still eying him. “Well, I’m gonna head back,” she repeated, “but, we should celebrate tonight, okay?”

“Oh yeah, tonight!” he agreed, only half present, still shaking with the adrenaline of what he just almost did. “Did we make plans?”

She cocked her head, giving him a fond smile, eyebrow raised. “Akira’s, remember? Curry party? With everyone.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” Ryuji replied, brows furrowed deeply. Of course. The plans they’d made and kept, the same Thursday of the month, every month, for the past five years. Of course he remembered. How could he forget. (He forgot.) “Right. Curry party. With everyone.”

“It’ll be fun,” Ann reminded him teasingly, before being called back a second time. “Okay, I really gotta go,” she said, and turned away, but just for a second, before turning back suddenly. She paused, looking at him contemplatively. Ryuji raised his eyebrows, confused, but his silent question was answered as soon as it was asked. Before he could realize what was happening, she raised herself to her toes and placed a swift kiss on his cheek, suspiciously close to the corner of his mouth.

It was the tiniest, little ghost of a kiss, over before it even began. Legally one might even get into a debate over whether it had taken place at all. But she looked up into his eyes when she pulled away and whispered, “congratulations again.” Ryuji realized, belatedly, that she was holding onto his hand, only noticing when she gave it a little squeeze. She held onto it, and their eye contact for a few seconds as she walked away, grinning as he lifted his other hand to brush over the spot that she’d kissed, as if trying to confirm that it had actually even happened. He smiled back, and watched for a moment as she switched her gears back into work mode, apologizing to the crew and thanking everyone for their patience with her.

Once safe behind the doors of the elevator, he placed his fingers back on his cheek, smiling warmly at the memory that yes, that did happen. He didn’t know what it meant. He wanted to talk about it, but he knew that he couldn’t, not just then. He didn’t know when. As gravity and the elevator pulled him back towards the earth, he remembered about the curry party, and banged his head against the wall, groaning inwardly. 

Trying to be cool around Ann when it was just the two of them was a challenge in itself. Trying to be cool around her with the rest of their friends looming around them was going to take a display of herculean strength. Not to mention the last time they’d all been together, they hadn’t made out in public even once, let alone twice.  _ Fuck, _ he thought, rubbing his face with his hands as the elevator dinged and deposited him onto the first floor. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He felt like laughing and groaning at the same time. All he knew was that he needed to call his mom, and tell her about the news. So he took out his phone, and inhaled deeply.

He scrolled through all of Ann’s notifications as he searched for his mom’s contact, smiling again at the memory of being with her, of holding her in his arms and bathing in the warmth of her smile. But he couldn’t wait to call his mom, either. After all the years of disappointing her, he could finally share some good news. He could finally be the son she deserved--he could finally make her proud. His thumb hovered over the call button, before pressing down firmly.  _ Okay, _ he said to himself.  _ Here goes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to listen to usher - u got it bad.mp3 on loop to get me thru the last like third of this chapter good LORd,


End file.
